I Haven't Lost My Voice
by Saintsavory
Summary: Piper writes a memoir about her time abroad with Alex and her year in prison, only the public wants to focus more on her past relationship than her incarceration. Think of this story as Piper Kerman's tale, only with the characters we see on OITNB.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Damn my Muse! She wouldn't shut up for two months, so I had to write this to get it out of my head. Disclaimer: I don't own any of these fictional characters.

* * *

She stopped correcting people more than a year ago—"It wasn't _jail_ ; it was _prison_ ," she'd reply with a contained eye roll. No one seemed to understand the difference between the two, and eventually, it wasn't worth her breath to explain the variance, so she let it slide the next thousand times.

Piper had served her time—a 15 month sentence reduced to a year and a month, which was ironic since that was approximately the length of time she'd been in a relationship with the woman who'd put her behind bars. There was nothing alluring about prison; it was as dark and terrifying as she figured it would be, but reflecting on her experience, she had to admit that it was _educational_.

Piper recalled the countless times her father had told her something would be _educational_ if she could glean just one lesson from that experience. When she was offered an internship at a publishing company the summer going into her senior year at Smith, Bill Chapman told his daughter to jump at the chance to _experience_ her education. Piper did exactly that, and from then on, she vowed to make even shitty experiences _educational_.

In the beginning, Piper didn't tell her fiancé that she was writing a book; in fact, she didn't realize that what she'd written in her journal over the years could possibly be turned into a memoir, until she typed the handwritten notes and was captivated by her own words. She asked her former supervisor at the publishing company (who'd since become a good friend) to read what she'd written, and Julia couldn't put it down.

"Is all of this true? I mean, the lesbian stuff?" Julia tipped back an Amstel Light.

Piper raised her eyebrows affirmatively and bit a French fry in half.

"Damn. I had no idea!" Her friend leaned forward and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "Does Larry know?"

She swallowed the fry and wiped her mouth, looking away for a moment. "No." Piper returned her attention to her friend. "Obviously, I'll tell him if this thing goes anywhere."

Julia licked her lips. "I've been reading scripts and potential novels for nearly 20 years, Piper. This thing has legs."

"You really think so?" Piper knew her story was a good one, but prior to this meeting, she didn't have the confidence she needed to turn it into a bonafide novel.

Julia folded her arms and sat back. "Yes."

* * *

Piper spent the next month contemplating her options. She was perfectly satisfied working for _Travel & Leisure_ (she'd worked her ass off to get promoted from production assistant to deputy editor of the domestic travel section) and could see herself in that job for the next 20 years, but the unfinished book called to her every night like a Siren. She'd kiss Larry on the cheek, roll onto her side, and think about her former life, wondering if it was fascinating enough to sell even a thousand copies. As she'd drift off to sleep, her thoughts often wandered to her time in Jakarta or Tangier or Frankfurt.

Piper never intentionally allowed herself to focus on Alex Vause for too long—that would be like staring directly at the sun. If Alex entered her mind, it was only to tell a story—a _factual_ not _emotional_ one. However, there were days when Piper saw something that reminded her of a dream she'd had of Alex, and she'd have to squeeze her eyes shut and banish the mental image of jet black hair and a cocky smirk.

It worked most of the time.

The times it didn't work inevitably led to Piper being in a foul mood. She couldn't so much as blink without seeing an image of Alex's salt shaker tattoo or her long neck, exposed from a fit of laughter. On those days, she needed to go for a run or even have sex with Larry to force the images out of her mind.

Writing the _Alex-centric_ chapters of her book were difficult—Piper usually had to get herself drunk to put pen to paper. She rarely reread those pages, hoping that her first pass would be enough to appease an editor.

By the time spring rolled around, Piper had the bones of what could very well be a decent memoir. She'd asked Julia to show the rough draft to her editor the week before she had a conversation with Larry about a key component of the novel—one that had remained a secret until that moment.

* * *

Despite Larry's religious beliefs, he still insisted on hosting an Easter brunch for their friends. That Sunday morning as Piper attempted to make deviled eggs and Larry basted the two pound ham with Coca-Cola and brown sugar, Larry brought up her potential book.

"So how's the writing going?" He'd been freelancing for a men's magazine and _The New York Post_ , always hoping to have the next great idea for a novel, but none of his ideas seemed to come to fruition.

One of the things Piper loved about her fiancé was how passionate he was about writing. She'd never been a zealous writer herself, but she was a damn good editor. Even after being together for two years, she still proofed Larry's articles, often finding egregious errors, but never giving him a hard time about them.

"I've asked Julia to show it to her boss." She peeled an egg, keeping her eyes trained on the delicate shells as they fell into the sink. "You know Roderick Whitman."

"Old man Whitman, of course." Larry smiled. "You think he'll give it the time of day?"

"I'd hope so. It's not every day that Julia brings him copy." She looked up. "Larry, there's something I should tell you in case this thing takes off."

He gave her a reticent look, and Piper wasn't sure if it was curiosity on Larry's part or astonishment that she thought her book was publishable. He hadn't once asked to read it, and she'd only shared with him that it was about her year at Litchfield.

"I've told you about why I went to prison." She rinsed her hands and wiped them with a dish towel.

He shrugged. "We do crazy shit for love. Like me baking a meaty ham for your Gentile friends."

She didn't take the time to remind her fiancé that it was his idea to make a traditional Easter brunch. "There's something I didn't tell you…Something I wasn't exactly honest about."

Larry shoved the ham into the oven, and then turned to her. "Ok…"

"It's about Alex." She laid the dish towel on the counter, smoothing the pastel cotton and avoiding eye contact.

"The guy who named you? He's an asshole." He leaned against the counter and crossed his legs at the ankles. "Is there more?"

"Alex isn't a _he_." Piper swallowed hard.

"What, is he a robot?" He bent his arms and moved them mechanically, saying in his best automated voice, "Hello, Piper, take this drug money for me. You will go to jail, but do it for love."

If she'd been in a joking mood, Piper would've found his antics humorous, but she knew that making light of the situation was not the best idea at that point. She kept her chin down, but raised her eyes to look at him. "Alex is a woman."

His hands slowly dropped to his sides and his smile turned upside down, divots forming on his chin. "I don't understand."

Piper sucked her lips in and waited for her fiancé to let the information sink in.

"Then who made you carry the drug money?"

" _Alex_."

He shook his head. "But you said you loved him."

"I did." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only, I loved _her_."

Larry pushed away from the counter and ran a hand through his short hair. "You're telling me this _now_?"

"It doesn't change anything…"

"Like hell it doesn't," he interrupted, spinning around to face the back door. They were silent for a moment before Larry spoke again. "Why didn't you tell me this two years ago?"

"I don't know." She lowered her head.

"You _know_ , Piper. It's not like you to…to conveniently forget a key part of a story." He turned to face her again.

"I thought you wouldn't want to continue seeing me if you knew I'd been with a woman," she let out in a quick breath.

He put his hands on his hips. "You weren't just _with_ this woman…this _Alex_ …you loved her."

"I did," came out as a whisper. Piper straightened her posture, trying not to let her long-abandoned feelings for Alex resurface. "But that was 12 years ago, and now I fucking hate her."

"Because she named you," he stated rather than asked.

Piper nodded.

"So, are you a lesbian?"

She shot him a look. "Not at the time, no."

"But you _were_ gay."

"I fall somewhere on a spectrum." Piper shrugged. "I love who I love, and that happens to be you right now."

"Right _now_?" He asked with a skeptical laugh. "What about a year from now? Or five years from now when we're raising our kids?"

"Larry," she tried.

"I consider myself a pretty liberal guy, but I don't get how you can love a woman, and then a man," he interrupted.

"Then you could probably benefit from learning a little more about fluidity." As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Now, she thought, Larry would think she'd have her eye on attractive men _and_ women. Before he spoke, Piper continued. "I've had relationships with men and women, but now I'm with you. I love _you_."

The doorbell rang.

"This conversation isn't over." Larry raised his eyebrows. "But I love you, too." He kissed her on the cheek before walking into the living room to welcome their first guests.

* * *

Three days after Easter, Piper got a call from Roderick Whitman's assistant, asking for a meeting the following week. She jumped at the chance, but didn't tell Larry about it in case the meeting was nothing more than, 'thanks, but no thanks.'

The couple discussed Piper's lesbian relationship again on Easter night, but Larry confessed it would take some time for him to wrap his brain around his fiancée's former love affair. Piper hoped that he could ponder her relationship silently. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask questions about her and Alex's time together. She wouldn't lie to him, and she knew Larry would have a hard time stomaching her once adventurous life. That was the thing she knew would bother him most—that she'd traveled the world on someone else's dime and had the time of her life for a year.

Over the next week, Piper made an effort to be extra affectionate towards her fiancé, hoping he'd realize that her adventurous life was long behind her and that her affection for Alex was a blip on the radar. She'd convinced herself of that very thing the moment she stepped foot at Litchfield. She swore if she ever saw Alex Vause again, she'd give her a piece of her mind, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Hating Alex was convenient; it made Piper feel less guilty for leaving her former girlfriend in Paris after her mother died. Now, they could each stew in their hatred for each other without having to see the other again.

That wasn't always the case.

After she left Paris, Piper returned to the US and tried to put the dark haired beauty behind her. She was successful for a week, forcing herself to recall the difficult positions Alex had put her in towards the end of their time abroad. Piper had felt underappreciated, neglected and used. She'd given Alex multiple chances to change her ways and make up for the time she had to spend traveling for the cartel and leaving Piper behind, but the brunette quickly returned to her old ways, blaming the high-stress job on her lack of attention to her girlfriend.

As the months, and eventually years, marched on, Piper's thoughts about Alex softened. She allowed herself to remember the good times—snorkeling in Mallorca, drinking Champagne at the Bollinger Estate in France, riding horses in the Irish countryside, taking a Flamenco lesson in Seville.

And of course, there was the sex—mind-blowing, life-altering, five-minute-orgasm sex. Piper often wondered if she stayed with Alex longer than she should have because of their physical connection. At times, she thought that must've been the case, but when she was being truly honest with herself, Piper knew that it was more than that— _so much more_.

They had more in common than they'd originally thought. At first, the physical attraction trumped any other connection, but as the women spent more time together, they realized that, for the most part, they liked the same books, the same music and the same politics. They both had an adventurous spirit that needed quenching. Alex was a seasoned traveler and enjoyed being a tour guide, while Piper hadn't left the country (save for a quick trip to Montreal in her teens) and yearned to discover life outside of the United States. The couple had intellectual discussions about the history and culture of whatever city they were in, and Piper had to give her former lover credit for being so incredibly knowledgeable and worldly without having stepped foot in college.

In the beginning of their relationship, when Piper first joined Alex abroad, the blonde couldn't wait for her lover to return from dinner with a prince or a meeting with a Middle Eastern billionaire to hear how it went. She peppered Alex with questions about etiquette when she was face-to-face with royalty or the elaborate gifts that she received from clients. Everything about Alex fascinated the young and impressionable 22-year-old.

Those things—those _times_ —weren't recorded in Piper's memoir; it was more about life in prison, because that's what the blonde thought would sell. Until her meeting with Roderick Whitman.

"Good morning, Ms. Chapman. It's been awhile." The elderly man stood to shake her hand.

The two had only conversed briefly when Piper was an intern at the publishing company many years ago. Roderick Whitman was a legend in the publishing world, receiving credit for making hundreds of authors best-selling stars. In fact, he had more _New York Times_ best seller authors on his label than any other living publisher. To be in his presence was astonishing for anyone who knew anything about modern, American literature.

"Hello." Piper wiped her sweaty hands on her black skirt before shaking Mr. Whitman's hand. "Thank you so much for meeting with me."

"I remember you," he said with fondness as he removed his glasses, tapping the tip of the metal frames against his lips. "Julia reminded me of who you were, but now that I have a good look at you, I remember when you interned here."

"I'm flattered, sir." She touched her hand to her chest.

"I don't remember every intern; that would be absurd, but I certainly remember you, Ms. Chapman. You have a look about you." He carefully lowered himself to his desk chair. "Please, have a seat."

Piper didn't know what 'look' she had and always considered herself an average blonde-haired, blue eyed woman. If Mr. Whitman was to be believed, she had no idea what it was about her that had stood out all those years ago.

"I read your memoir." He put his eyeglasses back on and flipped a few pages before looking up at his guest. "It's good. It's better than good, Ms. Chapman."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I do think that the audience will be far more fascinated by your relationship with this woman…this Jaye Reed, than by your time in prison, but the incarceration chapters are most appealing to me."

Even though Piper had intentionally renamed Alex in her book, her heart jumped at the mention of the fictitious name.

"There appears to be only two chapters about your life with Jaye, and I'm wondering if you'd care to elaborate a bit more about your adventures across the globe with her and the drug cartel?" He leaned back in his chair.

"I could certainly do that," she replied, already nervous about the prospect of having to write about her former life, but not foolish enough to ignore the publishing giant's request.

"Very good." He tossed the thick stack of paper on his desk. "Send me what you come up with next week, and I'll ask my assistant to arrange another meeting if I like what I see."

"Ok. Yes. Thank you. I'll get right on it." She scooted to the edge of her seat, waiting to be dismissed.

"I trust that you'll be able to paint a picture of danger, intrigue and lust." He smiled. "You know, the stuff that sells."

"I'll do my best." She returned his smile. "Thank you for the opportunity."

"Have a nice day and enjoy the abundant sunshine." He turned to look out of the 17th floor window. "I hear it's supposed to hit 80 for the first time this year."

"A sure sign that we'll have a hot summer." Piper stood. "Thank you again, Mr. Whitman."

* * *

Piper was secretly glad that Julia had to cancel their lunch plans, because she needed time to process what she was about to embark upon. It was one thing to _think_ about the time she and Alex had spent together, but it was a different ballgame to have to _write_ about it.

She boarded the Subway and closed her eyes, and images of her former lover instantly filled her mind. She pictured white, Egyptian cotton sheets fluttering over them like clouds as they laughed, completely naked, under the expensive hotel linens. Piper kept her eyes shut, remembering the very weight of Alex's body on top of hers as they made love in the middle of a warm, summer afternoon. She could almost smell the faint scent of gardenias wafting through their luxury suite in Bali.

There was no way that Piper could write about her love affair without conjuring up memories of their time together—some of them more akin to a nightmare, others simply heavenly. She wondered if she should take time off of work and go to her grandmother's cabin for a few days as she poured those memories onto paper. One thing she knew for certain—she couldn't write those scenes with Larry nearby.

* * *

"I'm going to take a couple days off work," she tried as she set the dinner table that night. "Work on my book."

Larry gave her a questioning glare. "You need time off for that?"

"Julia gave a rough draft to Roderick Whitman, and he liked it," she said nonchalantly, placing two glasses of water on the table.

"Whitman doesn't just 'take a look' at something." He put his hands on his hips. "What aren't you telling me, Piper?"

"Nothing!" She turned to face her fiancé. "He gave Julia a few notes for me, and I want to work on some edits without any distractions."

"Whitman gave her notes?"

She nodded.

"Piper, this is far more serious than you've let on." Larry took a step towards her. "Are you actually thinking about publishing this thing?"

"Yes." She crossed her brows. "Why didn't you take me seriously? I told you about my idea, and you seemed supportive."

"I was…I _am_." He scratched his forehead. "But I had no idea someone like Roderick Whitman would pick it up!"

Piper jutted her head back. "Is that a problem for you?"

"No!" He ran a hand down his face. "I'm happy for you. Really, I am."

"But?"

"I'd like to read what you have before you publish your life's story so I'm not blindsided at the fucking Barnes & Noble by your lesbian affair!" He pretended to be a random person at the bookstore. "You're Larry Bloom, right? What's it like to have a gay fiancée?"

"It's coming back to _that_?" she raised her voice. "You're jealous that I have the potential of publishing a book, and I'm not even a writer."

"Like hell I am," Larry huffed.

She leaned forward. "Then why are you so _fucking_ hung up on the fact that I had a girlfriend a decade ago?"

"Because it makes me feel like less of a man!" He blurted out.

They both hung their heads, and Piper rubbed her tired eyes with her thumb and forefinger.

"You're not less of _anything_ , Larry." She reached for him. "I had an exciting, mostly ill-advised romp in my early 20s that led me to _prison_. There's nothing you should be concerned about or afraid of—I want to marry you. Alex is my past; you're my future."

He squeezed her hand. "But you're going to write about her."

"To tell a story, to sell books, to make money," she replied slowly with elevated eyebrows. "That's all."

Larry clenched his jaw. "Will you let me read it?"

"Of course." The request sent butterflies to her stomach, but Piper knew there was no way around Larry reading the book before it was published— _if_ it was published.

Her plan was to allow Larry to read what she'd already written—that was safe. She'd spend the next few days expanding upon the parts about her and Alex, and once she was comfortable enough with that, she'd sit with her fiancé as he read those more graphic chapters.

* * *

Piper called in sick the next day, which happened to be a Friday. She drove to Maine to stay in her grandmother's old cabin, which hadn't been occupied on a regular basis in at least a year. She almost forgot how to get there, but she remembered in an instant where her grandmother had kept the spare key.

Piper hoisted her laptop bag over one arm, shoved a taped-up shoebox under the other, and drug a small suitcase behind her. The moment she was inside the tiny cabin, memories of her childhood came crashing down—Danny falling off the bunk bed and breaking his arm; Cal using one of their grandmother's pans as a target and shooting his BB gun at it; her parents getting into screaming matches on the front porch.

She set the shoebox on the table and reached for the light switch. At least someone was still paying the bills, she thought. Piper roamed around the small space, removing furniture covers, touching old picture frames and opening the curtains. She'd had some good memories in that cabin—she'd lost her first tooth there, celebrated her 12th birthday, and ate a lobster roll for the first time. Her family built campfires and roasted marshmallows one summer when the world seemed right; Danny taught his siblings how to roll a joint; and Piper took her first sip of beer in the woods behind the shed.

Once Piper was satisfied with the cleanliness of the place, she opened a bottle of white wine and took her laptop out of its case. The sun streamed into the side windows, so she perched herself on a recliner that once seemed so big, and settled in to tell her tale.

The more wine Piper drank, the more the stories flowed from her brain to her computer screen. Her plan was to jot down every scene she remembered from her travels, and then she'd delete the ones that were either too intimate or too boring. Most of what she captured seemed like it would be exciting to a reader. With every sentence, Piper recalled what it felt like to actually _live out_ those moments—the time she jumped off a cliff into the water below, the time she got her first tattoo, the time they had sex under a towel on a public beach—those were the _good_ times.

Then she wrote about being asked to pick up drug money in Turkey; Alex being gone for two weeks without so much as a phone call; Alex not meeting her at the airport, forcing her to spend three days in Paris alone. Those were the worst of times—the ones Piper held onto so that she could dislike Alex as much as she did…or _should_.

Piper stopped typing when she couldn't ignore her stomach growling every ten seconds. She glanced at the clock on her laptop and noticed it was going on midnight. She'd been writing for nearly 12 hours without more than a few bathroom breaks. Piper stood, twisting her back and hearing the tendons pop. She cracked her neck and headed into the bathroom in hopes that the hot water heater still worked.

Much to her enjoyment, the warm water poured out of the faucet after only a few minutes. She stood under the spray, remembering the time she and Alex took an outdoor shower in the Seychelles. Alex had given her a sizeable hickey on her collarbone that day and teased her about having to wear a turtleneck in the 80 degree weather to cover it up. When Alex was happy, everything was right in the world. She'd showered Piper with affection and smiled in a way that Piper _knew_ was reserved exclusively for her.

Piper had only packed the basics in terms of food—cheese and crackers, salami, a bag of mixed nuts, a baguette and a few slices of turkey. She made herself a sandwich, and then opened the refrigerator to see if it was still working and was pleasantly surprised that it was cool inside. She transferred the turkey and two more bottles of wine, a Chardonnay and a rosé, into the fridge. As she chewed the dry sandwich, Piper strolled back into the living room, picking up picture frame after picture frame, looking at the old photos. The most recent one had to have been at least ten years old, and Cal was almost unrecognizable. She smiled at the photograph, placed it back on the mantle, and then curled up on the old sofa, tossing an afghan that her grandmother had knitted many years ago over her legs.

As she absorbed the once familiar scenery around her, Piper's eyes were drawn to the shoebox that she'd brought, wondering what she'd find inside if she'd have the courage to open it. There was only one item that she remembered placing in the box—the e-mail that Alex had sent her about her mother's funeral arrangements. Piper had printed the e-mail along with driving directions to the cemetery, but she didn't attend the services. She'd driven to the cemetery, arriving too late, and watched Alex get into the car with Fahri. She remembered how badly the tears had stung her eyes that day, and she'd vowed to stay away from Alex Vause from that moment on.

Her phone buzzed, disturbing her from her reverie—a text from Larry saying good night. He was _such_ a good guy, and Piper knew she was lucky to have him in her life. She never allowed herself to compare Larry to Alex; that wouldn't be fair. They were two entirely different people with entirely different meanings in her life. Alex was never someone who Piper thought she'd settle down with. Of course at one point, probably four or five months into their relationship when they admitted their love for one another, she'd hoped they'd live happily ever after, but that feeling was short-lived as she began figuring out that Alex's love of power was more potent than her love of Piper.

She texted her fiancé good night, and then switched on the stereo that she remembered playing N'Sync and Backstreet Boys on all those years ago. Piper could see a CD inside the single-disc player, so she hit the green button and heard Joni Mitchell blast through the two speakers that flanked the rather large stereo.

Piper closed her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep as the lyrics from Both Sides Now played in her head.

 _Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel_

 _as every fairy tale comes real; I've looked at love that way._

 _But now it's just another show. You leave 'em laughing when you go_

 _and if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away._

* * *

The next morning, Piper's neck was stiff as she shifted on the sofa. Despite the early summer heat during the day, it was still cool at night and in the mornings. She pulled the blanket over her body and turned her head to the side as she recalled where she was. The first thing Piper noticed was the shoebox sitting on the table, and if it had the properties to be able to taunt her, she believed it would.

She slowly sat up, stretching and shivering as the afghan slipped to her waist. Piper walked over to the table and traced her fingertips over the duct tape that had kept the shoebox 'locked' for 12 years. She picked it up, tucking it under her arm, and stared out the front window as the sun rose between the tall Evergreens. Without putting the box down, she threw a sweater over her shoulders and opened the front door. The air was crisp and clean—something she never truly appreciated until after she was released from prison. Piper walked back inside and grabbed the blanket, and then sat on the old pine swing big enough to fit two people, placing the shoebox on her lap. She took a deep breath before lifting the edge of the thick, gray tape. Piper's grandmother always told her to rip Band-Aids off quickly to lessen the pain, so she applied that advice to the duct tape, and in five seconds, it was off.

With the lid still firmly in place, Piper contemplated what she was hoping to find in the shoebox. She told herself that the reason why it was important to see what was inside was for _research purposes_ —if there were trinkets that reminded her of her of a certain place and time with Alex, those would allow her to write a more poignant story.

Lifting the lid, she brought the box up to her face, taking a big whiff of the contents. There was no scent, really, and she didn't care to examine why that was such a disappointment. As she reached inside, she pulled out the printed e-mail and directions that she knew she'd find. She glanced at the folded paper, flipping the page to see the date stamp on the top. Remembering that somber day brought a pang to her chest. She wondered what would've happened if she'd gotten out of the car and apologized to Alex right then and there. Would Alex have accepted her apology or told her it was too little, too late? She took a deep breath, then put the documents aside and reached for something else.

The first thing that caught her eye was a small Ziploc bag with a locket of Alex's blue hair. She remembered the bet they'd made about how to find their way back to civilization after going for a long, unescorted walk in the Sinharaja Forest in Sri Lanka. " _If you get us the fuck out of here, I'll cut my hair_." Piper had given her lover a hard time about her blue locks, saying that they looked anything but professional, so when she won the bet and got them safely out of the forest, Piper cut four-inch chunks of Alex's blue hair as the women laughed at the ridiculous bet.

The blonde reached inside of the Ziploc and rubbed the hair between her fingers. She brought it to her nose, but it no longer smelled like Alex's shampoo. She tickled her lips with the hair and sighed before putting it back into the bag.

The next item that Piper saw was a photograph of herself with Bono. She looked closely at the picture, hoping to see Alex's reflection in the mirror behind them, but she could only detect the outline of the woman snapping the picture. Piper would never forget that night—Alex had surprised her with front row tickets to a U2 show in Dublin and a backstage pass to meet the members of the band. Alex had scoffed at Piper's love of the Irish band, but the blonde knew that her girlfriend had secretly enjoyed the show.

The other items in the shoebox included a nearly empty tube of Alex's red Chanel lipstick, a turquoise ring that Alex had given her after a trip to Turkey, a postcard from Malta, and a red & white silk scarf that the brunette had used to blindfold Piper before dragging her to the balcony of their room at The Four Seasons in Grand Cayman to show her the vast Caribbean Ocean mere steps away. (They'd used that same scarf for _other_ purposes on that trip, but Piper refused to contemplate those.)

Piper closed her eyes and let her head fall back, neck exposed to the wooden beams above. There was no way she could avoid the images of Alex that popped into her mind. Those images were all she had—she hadn't kept a photograph of Alex; in fact, she remembered tearing a few to shreds the night of Alex's mother's funeral. Piper was sorry that she hadn't kept a single one, but the box of memories was hard enough to stomach without needing to see her ex-lover's contagious smile.

She pulled out the final two items—a CD and a note. Piper remembered when Alex had handed her the "mixed tape" as she'd called it. She'd rolled her eyes and said, " _This is by far the cheesiest thing I'll ever give you, and if you tell anyone about it, I'll deny I made it_."

Piper hopped off of the swing, and went inside to play the disc, remembering only one song that was surely on it. Just as she figured, Kelis belted out "Milkshake," and Piper snorted with laughter when the lyrics began. She covered her mouth, almost as if embarrassed that she found enjoyment in the memory of the dance they'd created. The other songs on the CD didn't have as much meaning, but they reminded Piper _desperately_ of Alex.

Piper kept the music playing as she opened a folded note, which was the last item in the box. Otis Redding sang, "These Arms of Mine" as Piper regarded the ivory stationary with AV embossed at the top. She ran her fingers over the letters as she read the note:

 _Good morning, babe,_

 _Toaster's broken, but the coffeemaker still works. Will make French toast when I get back. Don't get dressed._

 _Love,_

 _Alex_

Piper clutched the paper to her chest and felt tears burn her eyes. She'd never forget that morning—Alex had gone out to get the Sunday _New York Times_ , and when she returned, Piper had a hot glue gun in the toaster. They'd laughed until they cried and ended up having sex on the kitchen table.

The emotional roller coaster was too much, so Piper wiped her eyes and got dressed to go for a morning jog. She needed to clear her mind, especially of the good times. When she returned to the cabin, she could write more of her memoir, focusing on the stories about why she'd left Alex all those years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: I forgot to mention that in this story, Piper and Larry did not know each other before she went to prison. They met and got engaged AFTER she served time. Also a huge thank you to my beta, Nicki!

* * *

Over the next nine months, Piper spent countless hours editing her memoir until it was ready to be published. The emotional pendulum during that time put a strain on her relationship with Larry, but Piper wasn't sure if it was because of the pressure and stress she was under to perfect the book or because her memories of Alex boiled to the surface. She'd done an excellent job keeping them locked up inside for more than a decade, but writing the memoir made her relive the good and bad times in what seemed like living color.

Roderick Whitman himself served as chief editor of her memoir, and Piper learned later that he had a personal interest in the subject of women's incarceration, because his niece went through a similar experience ten years earlier. Each draft that she brought to him was met with, "We need more_." Usually that blank had something to do with 'The Alex Chapters.' If Piper examined why the editor's notes always centered around improving the first part of the book, she'd realize that she had an internal block when it came to writing about their love. She much preferred focusing on the hard times—reliving the good times was difficult because they were _that_ good and she knew she'd never have an experience like that again. Deep within her, Piper longed for those days, but she always reminded herself about the way things ended.

Mr. Whitman advised her to hire a publicist, and he gave her a short list of names who had the greatest potential to catapult her book to the top of any best seller's list. She settled on a young, savvy African-American woman by the name of Blair Mitchell, who had helped launch the careers of Lauren Holmes and Lucy Wood over the last year. Whitman was a big fan of Mitchell's style and go-getter attitude, and he commended Piper on making a wise choice.

A month before the official release of her memoir, which was titled, _Every Sentence Tells a Story_ , Piper got a call from _The Utne Reader_ about doing an interview for their June publication. As Blair Mitchell worked her ass off to get the book into magazine and newspaper editors' hands all over the country, more good news followed. _Entertainment Weekly_ contacted her about mentioning the memoir in their Goodreads section, and both _L.A. Weekly_ and _The Stranger_ picked it up.

Within the first month of the book's release, Piper's publicist had hundreds of phone calls and e-mails from local and national publications and news shows, as well as requests for Piper to speak at colleges and events across the country. Several LGBT organizations contacted Blair as well, hoping to land an interview with Piper. The launch of the book also happened to coincide with John Legend's, _Free America_ tour, a multi-year culture campaign initiated by the singer to change the national conversation about misguided policies within the America's criminal justice system. Blair was working on a contract to do a joint publicity venture with Legend, and she was confident Piper would get to tour with the Grammy-winning artist, even if it was only along the Eastern seaboard.

Never in a million years did Piper expect to be on _The New York Times_ Best Seller's List, but the success of the book was undeniable. Although she didn't quit her job, Piper took a three month leave of absence to promote the memoir as well as her prison reform advocacy. Several well-known publications referred to the book as the "perfect summer read," and by the end of August, sales were through the roof.

However, as the summer gradually turned into fall, the buzz on the Internet was less about prison reform and more, "Who is the real Jaye Reed?" Piper began fielding that question in every interview, but she refused to give them Jaye's real name. Blair had to work with the blonde to control her facial expressions when the question surfaced, but Piper had a difficult time remaining neutral. It wasn't until her interview on The Today Show when Willie Geist made her squirm.

"The memoir has been wildly successful," Geist began with a copy of the book in hand, "but there seems to have been a shift from what's happening in the federal penitentiary system to who in the world is Jaye Reed?"

Piper had practiced addressing the issue many times with Blair, Larry, Mr. Whitman, and Julia, but when she sat across from Willie Geist, she froze.

"Yes, um…" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "The reason I wrote this book wasn't to shed light on my relationship with Jaye. It was to help the general public understand more about the dire need for prison reform. As important as the conditions of confinement are...the thing that is most important is to send fewer people to prison in the first place. Prisons have a really limited capacity to rehabilitate as they currently exist, and it would take tremendous change for correctional institutions to actually function as rehabilitative places.*" She had repeated those exact sentences many times over the past three months, so if Geist was looking for a soundbite about Alex, Piper's response wouldn't cut it.

"While I hear what you're saying, and I think you're a superb advocate for prison reform, what about this Jaye character? Did you create this fictional woman to sell books?"

"No." She shook her head. "I can assure you, Jaye is real—those stories are real. That was my life."

"Have you been in touch with her?"

"No…mmm mmm." Piper shook her head again and glanced beyond the cameras to her publicist, hoping she'd give her some kind of cue as to how to change the subject.

"Do you know if she lives in the US? Or if she served time for her part in the cartel?"

Piper felt beads of sweat beginning to form on her upper lip. "I'm sorry, Willie, but I don't know anything about my ex-girlfriend. I can only tell you that she's the reason I went to prison."

"But you _did_ transport drug money, right? So Jaye got you involved, but you were the one to move the money of your own volition."

In their brief rehearsal and in the notes that The Today Show shared with her prior to appearing, none of this was mentioned. Piper could see Blair talking to one of the producers with a heated expression.

Piper ran a hand through her perfectly straight hair, not expecting this line of questioning to continue. "Yes, I committed a crime and was sent to prison for 13 months for transporting drug money _one time_ in my life. There are prisoners who commit violent crimes, like rape, who serve less time."

"Indeed. Well thank you for being on the show, Ms. Chapman." Willie turned to the camera. "We'll be back after these messages."

As soon as the director yelled, _cut_ , Piper stood. "What the _fuck_ was that?"

Geist removed his microphone and stood. "Sorry, I was handed a new sheet of questions before we went live."

Blair approached the two of them and chimed in. "That was irresponsible journalism, Mr. Geist. I'll be speaking with Charlie before I leave the studio."

Piper was irate, mostly because she had no intention of making Alex the focus of her story. She'd shared as much about her relationship with Alex with Blair and Larry, who was equally upset about the line of questioning.

Two days later, when Blair thought she was getting an apology call from the folks at The Today Show, she instead got a call from NBC News in Chicago that shook Piper to the core: they'd found the real Jaye Reed.

* * *

Piper was on eggshells over the next few days as Blair tried to learn more about what the NBC affiliate in Chicago was going to do now that they'd identified Alex. The station was close-lipped about it and didn't inform her if or when they'd interview Alex. The only thing the station chief shared was that they weren't giving her name or whereabouts to any other media outlet.

As Piper ate a bowl of Cheerios one morning, she walked towards the TV to turn the volume up on a news story that intrigued her about a military dog who'd lost one leg in battle. She stood in front of the flat screen, eating the O-shaped cereal, and when the segment was over, the broadcaster announced, "And for all of you _Every Sentence Tells a Story_ fans out there who've been wondering for months who Jaye Reed is, NBC News has learned her _true_ identity."

A picture of Alex flashed on the screen, and Piper dropped her bowl. She felt the cold milk on her bare feet as she stared at her former girlfriend, dressed in prison khakis.

" _Alex Vause_ is the real name of the mysterious woman from the Piper Chapman memoir, and she is still serving time for the crimes she committed more than a decade ago. Dateline will have an exclusive interview with Ms. Vause next Saturday evening."

That was it—20 seconds, and it was over. Piper's hands were shaking as she pressed rewind on the DVR. By the fourth viewing, she found herself on the ground, knees soaked with milk, and Cheerios stuck to her jeans. Her phone rang, but she didn't answer it.

Piper had no idea how long she knelt in front of the TV, but by the time the home phone and her cell phone buzzed in unison, she knew she had to get up. She saw four missed calls from Blair and one from Polly. The blonde looked at herself in the mirror and hadn't realized that she'd been crying until she saw her tear stained cheeks. She hadn't so much as seen a picture of Alex in more than a decade, and there she was, on her television screen—no smile, no makeup—just black rimmed glasses and her long, dark hair. _And she looked gorgeous_.

Her cell phone chirped again, and she finally answered.

"Piper, I don't want to alarm you, but…" Blair began.

"I know. I saw it." She sniffed.

"E-mails and phone calls are pouring in—Dateline has the exclusive with Alex, and Vanity Fair is doing two-page spread as soon as she's released."

Piper wiped her nose with the back of her hand and closed her eyes.

"Let me wrangle my contacts and see if they can shed any light onto the content of these interviews," Blair announced. "I'll come to your apartment in a couple of hours."

"Ok," came out as a mere breath.

"Do you have someone you can be with until I get there? Is Larry around?"

"No." Piper walked into the kitchen and tore off a paper towel to wipe her face. "This is not good."

There was a short pause before Blair replied, "Probably not for your emotional state, but for book sales, it could put you over 50,000 copies."

Piper hadn't even considered what would happen to sales if Alex came out—that wasn't her concern. She hadn't written the memoir to make gobs of money. The $20,000 advance she'd received was more than she expected, so anything that she'd earn over that amount was simply a bonus. Of course, she and Larry could use the money—they lived rent-free in a brownstone that Larry's parents owned, and his parents paid their electric and gas/water bills. But Piper had never been in it for the money—not writing the book and certainly not traveling around the world with the woman she'd loved.

* * *

Blair learned that NBC had to cut through quite a bit of red tape in order to interview Alex in prison, which was why the story wouldn't air for another week. Larry had asked his fiancée if she wanted to record the program or if she wanted to be with friends to watch it live. Piper settled for having Larry, Polly, Pete & Blair over to watch the show together.

The day of the interview, Piper was a wreck—she couldn't sleep, could hardly eat and found her hands shaking when she zipped her pants that morning.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Larry asked.

"She could lie; make it sound like I made the whole story up," Piper offered, backing away from him. "Or she could reveal things that no one needs to know."

"Like what?"

Piper hid her blush behind a shirt she was folding. "I don't know…intimate stuff."

Larry had never been comfortable talking about Piper's sex life, especially where Alex was concerned. "It's Dateline, not Cinemax. I don't think they'll let it get to that."

She eyed him and picked up another shirt to fold.

"I'm just not sure you fully understood what you were getting yourself into with this book, Piper." Larry put his hands on his hips.

She didn't want to argue with him that morning, so she settled for, "Maybe not, but it's too late to turn back now."

Piper had been honest with Larry about her concerns—she _was_ afraid of Alex falsifying information or making the interview about their former romantic life, but it was much more than that. Seeing a still photo of Alex on TV was hard enough. To see her walking and talking and laughing and doing that thing with her hair that Piper remembered vividly—those were the things Piper couldn't prepare herself for. She was afraid of how she'd react upon seeing a woman she'd been deeply in love with at one point in her life, but not having the guts (or the gumption) to tell her fiancé how she'd _truly_ felt all those years ago.

Before the book had been published, Larry had asked Piper how much Alex meant to her during that phase of her life. She'd had the opportunity to be honest then, but she couldn't pull the trigger. " _Not nearly as much as you mean to me now_ ," she'd said. Larry seemed pleased with that response, so he'd left it at that.

What Piper _couldn't_ say was, "She was the love of my life."

* * *

Polly sat next to her on the sofa the evening of the Dateline segment, while Pete and Larry remained standing behind the sofa, beers in hand. Blair sat at the edge of a gray armchair, clenching her cell phone, ready to call the producer if anything went egregiously wrong.

The familiar theme music came on and the show began. This particular episode had two segments, the first was about deadly tornados along the Gulf Coast, and while the subject was interesting and the scenes, graphic, in that moment in time, Piper couldn't care less about the people affected. She got up to use the bathroom twice, almost throwing up on the second pass. She stared at her somewhat pale complexion in the mirror and gave herself a pep talk: _You can do this. She's only on TV, not in your living room. Whatever she says doesn't matter. You can do this_.

"Pipes, it's on!" Larry called from down the hallway.

She swallowed hard and joined her friend on the sofa. Polly grabbed her hand, and Blair raised the volume.

"By now many of you have read the memoir, _Every Sentence Tells a Story_ , the true tale of Piper Chapman's picture-perfect life until she met Jaye Reed, a woman who was involved in an international drug cartel, but whose adventurous life attracted Chapman enough to join her on her globetrotting expeditions," Lester Holt began. "Chapman carried a suitcase of drug money for the cartel and was sentenced to 15 months in a federal prison for her role in aiding known criminals. Since then, Chapman has served time, written a memoir, and become an advocate for prison reform in the United States," he paused and turned to a different camera, and a photo of Alex—the same one Piper had seen a week ago—appeared in the upper right corner of the screen. "However, since the book's release just over three months ago, the topic that has surfaced on the Internet and at water coolers around the country is _who is Jaye Reed_?"

Piper could feel everyone's eyes on her, but she couldn't peel hers away from the television.

"From the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Chicago, Hoda Kotb has an exclusive interview with _Alex Vause_ , Piper Chapman's real-life former lover who was portrayed in the memoir as the somewhat mysterious and stunningly beautiful, Jaye Reed."

Piper swallowed hard as a living, breathing Alex appeared on the screen. She was in her prison issued khakis, hair more coifed than it should be behind bars, and eyeliner hooking at the corners of her hazel eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, _Jaye_ ," Hoda joked.

Alex adjusted her eyeglasses and pursed her lips. "You too, Hoda."

"Have people started calling you that?"

"Not really—most people don't know I'm the real Jaye Reed." Alex's smile faded. "It's not like there's a media outlet in prison for me to share my side of the story with the world."

"How long have you been in prison?"

The brunette ran a hand through her hair. "Six years, eight months."

"And when will you be released?"

Her lips turned upwards. "Exactly one month from today."

"Wow, congratulations!" Hoda smiled. "Is that what you tell someone who gets out of prison?"

"I don't know," Alex chuckled. "But I'll take it."

There was a pre-recorded voiceover as Hoda and Alex continued to make small talk: _It's fascinating to see 'Jaye Reed' with my own eyes and reflect on the portrait that Chapman painted of her in the memoir. 'Jaye was tall and shapely and had curves in all the right places. She carried herself with an air of confidence that both men and women were drawn to,'_ Hoda read directly from the pages of the book.

 _Meeting Alex Vause, I must say that Chapman's words ring true. The first thing I notice is Vause's stature. She's just under six feet tall and has a commanding presence. Her flawless skin makes the absence of makeup, save for her eyeliner, effortlessly appealing. Her confidence is palpable, even in a place where one might think that virtue would be stripped from a person whose rights no longer exist. Prison is said to be physically unkind to people, especially women, but Alex Vause is exceptionally attractive—some might even say exotic. When the general public pictures female inmates, visions of unkempt, rough & tumble women might enter their minds, but Vause doesn't fit that bill—she looks like a movie star, only here to play a role._

Before they dove into the book, Hoda requested a tour of the prison, and Alex agreed, showing her only the areas that MCC allowed, including the galley, the yard, a break room and her bunk. Piper watched Alex walk, noticing her gait hadn't changed. She still moved with that self-assured sway, and the blonde reflected on Hoda's statement in the voiceover about Alex's confidence. That was one thing her former lover had never lacked.

"Damn, I didn't realize she was hot," Pete commented from behind the women.

Polly whipped her head around and sneered at her husband. "Seriously, Pete?!"

"I don't believe it—Alex gets to show the audience the inside of _your_ hell," Blair commented. "She's stealing your thunder, Piper."

Piper knew her friends were talking to her, but she wasn't sure what they'd said. Her mind was singularly focused on Alex. Her hands begin to sweat, so she pulled the one that was linked to Polly's away and buried them in her lap, ignoring everything and everyone around her.

Hoda and Alex arrived back in the interview room and took their seats.

"It's safe to assume you've read Piper Chapman's book," Hoda said.

"I have." The smirk Piper had once been so familiar with crossed Alex's face, and in that moment, Piper knew that her ex-girlfriend had an agenda.

"The parts that you were in—were they factual?"

"Factual, yes." Alex licked her lips. "But a bit misleading."

Hoda creased her forehead. "How so?"

"There were a total of four chapters about me in the entire book, which, I should mention, is 22 chapters total," Alex stated. "I just think she could've painted a richer, truer-to-life picture of our relationship if she'd dedicated a few more pages to it."

"And said what?"

"That we were _in love_." Alex shoved one sleeve up, and Piper's eyes were drawn to the tattoo around her forearm. She tried to banish the memories of kissing Alex on that exact spot many, many times. "Did you pick up on that when _you_ read the book, Hoda?"

The interviewer leaned back, seemingly deep in thought. "I could sense a definite attraction, but I don't know that I'd use the term, _love_."

"Exactly," Alex said with the lift of a singular brow. "Piper spent more time writing about the things that went _wrong_ in our relationship, when a lot of it was f*cking awesome." She looked down and pursed her lips. "Can't say that word on TV. Sorry."

"It's ok." Hoda grinned. "The guys in the booth will bleep it out…You were saying?"

She licked her lips again, and Piper yearned to pause it right there to see Alex's tongue.

"What I don't think the reader understands is that we were in a full-fledged relationship—a passionate, loving, committed one, and that's not…it's unfair to either of us for people to view it otherwise."

"Why do you think that's important for people to know?"

She clenched her jaw and softly placed both hands on the table in front of her. Piper watched her long fingers glide against the metallic surface, and an image of those fingers skimming down her stomach on some exotic beach entered her mind. Piper tried to keep her eyes wide open so that she didn't blink and envision _that_ scenario again.

"Because we do stupid stuff when we're in love." Alex shook her head. "I was in over my head with the cartel, and I asked Piper to help me. I shouldn't have done that. _Ever_."

Piper felt the sting of tears; Alex had never said that to her. She wondered if her ex-girlfriend _had_ apologized to her at any point over the last 12 years, would all have been forgiven? Was that what Piper had been stewing about for a decade—the lack of an apology?

"And Piper loved me, so _of course_ she'd transport money to help me out of a sticky situation even if she knew it was dangerous."

Hoda lifted a finger to her chin. "Where did the wheels come off the cart?"

"You mean, why did we end it?"

The camera zoomed in on Alex's face, and Piper could see the pigment in her eyes. To the rest of the world, they probably just looked like green eyes, but Piper had watched them change from green to gray to light brown every day depending on her mood. When they made love, Alex's eyes were the color of Castelvetrano olives. (A fact that she'd discovered in Sicily when they'd toured an olive farm. Alex had laughed at her for referring to her eyes as the color of olives, chastising Piper for not coming up with something a bit more poetic.) As the blonde watched her ex-girlfriend on TV, she noticed her eyes were a brownish-gray.

Alex let out a long breath and stared into the distance. "She left me at a time when I needed her."

"When was that?"

"The day my mom died." The camera zoomed in even closer. "I'd gotten off the phone with my aunt, who'd told me that my mom had an aneurism. Piper comforted me for half a second, but then she left just like that." Alex snapped her fingers. "She had a plane to catch and walked right out the door without turning back."

Piper could feel her face scrunch up in something resembling regret as she remembered that day in Paris. She recalled exactly what Alex was wearing right down to the brand name of the black sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. As she continued staring at the screen, Piper could feel her friends looking at her, presumably unaware of how her relationship with Alex had ended.

"Without explanation?" Hoda asked in an accusatory tone.

"She was tired of me leaving her to fend for herself in some of the most spectacular cities across the globe," Alex explained with a bit of resentment in her voice. "When Piper sets her mind to something, she does it, no matter how it might affect others."

"That must've stung."

The dark haired woman huffed as if that was the understatement of the year.

Hoda leaned forward. "When was the last time you were in touch with her?"

"Years ago." Alex looked up as if contemplating the passage of time. "I sent her an e-mail about my mom's funeral arrangements—she knew my mom; they were pretty close—and I never heard from her or saw her again. That was 12 years ago."

The interviewer raised her eyebrows. "Do you have any desire to reconnect?"

Alex looked directly at her with steely eyes. "Not unless she offered me an apology for leaving the way she did."

"And if she did that, would you forgive her?"

Alex shook her hair over her shoulders and glanced away from the camera, and Piper could tell the wheels were turning in her mind. Alex used to get that way when she tried to finagle her way out of something.

"We went through a lot of shit, you know? It would take more than a simple apology for us to be…" Alex trailed off. "I was going to say 'friends', but we were never really friends."

"No?"

"I don't think we were _friends_ in the truest sense of the word. We were lovers." Piper could see Alex chew on her statement for a beat.

Hoda tilted her head. "Losing Piper…was that hard?"

Once again, Alex licked her lips, and Piper wondered if her mouth was dry—a sure sign of nervousness. "Yeah, it was."

Hoda seemed to wait for the brunette to elaborate, but Alex remained silent. "Would you ever want her back?"

Piper's eyes widened as she waited with bated breath. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest like a jackhammer.

"Isn't she married now?" Alex attempted a smile, but Piper saw right through her avoidance.

"I think she's engaged," Hoda replied with a grin.

The brunette folded her arms and sat there for a moment. "We're in totally different places in our lives. Besides, Piper's adventurous streak lasted all of nine months. I don't see how we would be compatible after all these years."

The voiceover came on again as the camera panned back: _There's something that Vause isn't willing to give away—something tucked deep within her that she doesn't want the world to see. Is it that she never got over Chapman's departure? Could there be a spark that hasn't fully died between the two women? Sometimes secrets are best between friends…er,_ _ **lovers**_.

"Are you eager to get out?" Hoda asked with a knowing smile.

Alex tipped her head back with a gentle laugh, and Piper wanted to press pause again to trace the faint veins in her neck. She'd sucked on that long, alabaster column more times than she could count. Her skin often tasted like coconut, and for the life of her, Piper could never understand why.

She smiled. "Hell, yes."

Piper found herself smiling back with a bit of nostalgia.

"Best of luck to you, Ms. Vause."

"Thank you, Hoda." She shook the woman's hand and stood.

The screen turned black and picked up on Lester Holt in the studio. "Piper Chapman's best seller, _Every Sentence Tells a Story_ , is at bookstores everywhere."

It was as if Piper had been holding her breath underwater for those 26 minutes. She let her back fall flat against the cushion and closed her eyes.

"You ok, Pipes?" Larry asked.

She opened her eyes and nodded. Piper glanced at Blair, who was already on the phone and pulling out her laptop.

Polly grabbed her friend's hand. "Can I get you something strong to drink? Tequila? Gin?"

"No, I'm fine. Really." She placed the back of her hand to her forehead. "I'm glad it's over."

"She didn't say anything too damaging," Blair commented as she scrolled through her e-mails. "But she's gunning for the spotlight."

Larry sat on the arm of the sofa and brushed Piper's hair back. "That doesn't sound good."

"She's getting out of prison without a college degree and needs to make money." Piper sat up straight. "She'll probably milk this for all it's worth."

"Polly told me you and Alex were a couple, but she never mentioned you were in love," Pete said as he popped open a Bud Light and handed it to the blonde.

Both Polly and Piper glared at him.

Larry rubbed his fiancée's back. "Give it a rest, Pete."

"My parents are going to fucking flip." Piper let out a frustrated sigh.

"Not any more than they did when you gave them the book to begin with," Larry stated.

She took a swig of beer, standing on shaky legs. "I need to lie down."

"Want me to walk up with you?" Polly splayed her hand on her friend's back.

Piper nodded. She kissed Larry on the cheek and bid her farewells to Pete and Blair.

"I'll be here at 9 tomorrow morning," Blair called as Piper climbed the stairs.

Once they were safely behind closed doors, Polly's expression shifted. "Are you really ok?"

The blonde could feel her face contort just before tears rolled down her cheeks like waves in the ocean. "That was _so_ hard." She reached for Polly, who pulled her into a deep embrace.

"I know." The friend rubbed her back. "Shh…I know."

Piper sobbed on her friend's shoulder and felt like her guts were being wrung from her stomach—the pain was so deep and raw that it physically hurt. After a couple of minutes, she pulled back. "You're the only one who knows what Alex meant to me, Pol. I know you never liked her, but…" she trailed off with a fresh set of tears.

"I _still_ don't like her, but I do know what she meant to you." The brunette let out a sigh of her own. "I don't think it would be a good idea for the two of you to see each other in person."

She pulled away again. "What? Where is that coming from?"

Polly shrugged. "You know the media would love to put you two in the same room—some stupid show like Jerry Springer or Maury."

"I'm not going on Jerry Springer." She wiped her nose with her shirt sleeve. "Why don't you think it would be a good idea if we saw each other?"

"Do I really have to spell it out?" Polly raised her brows. "The two of you have some sort of connection that science cannot explain. I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I'm with Larry. I'm _engaged_ to Larry." Piper sniffed and looked away. "I want nothing to do with Alex."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that." The brunette wiped her friend's cheeks with her thumb. "So you'll stay away?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "Of course, I'll stay away."

"Let's get you into bed."

Piper changed into her pajamas and allowed her friend to tuck her under the covers. Polly kissed her on the forehead and told her to sleep well. As the brunette exited the room, Piper blinked several times as she thought about Alex. It was difficult to believe that woman could still have such a profound effect on her, but Alex had always been able to push Piper's buttons from the moment they met. Piper knew what her friend meant by not wanting Alex and her to be in the same room—that would be disastrous. On one hand, they'd shoot daggers at each other, but on the other, the passion they'd kept locked away for 12 years would surely simmer to the surface. Piper didn't want to test her own personal limits, and she sure as hell didn't want to test Alex's.

* * *

*Note that this response is a direct quote from Piper Kerman in an interview she did with NPR.


	3. Chapter 3

Now that Alex had been 'discovered,' Piper was anxious about her next interview. Blair had prepared her for the difficult questions about her former relationship that were sure to come but strongly advised her to take every interview she was granted to help with the promotion of the book. As it stood, her memoir was number one on _The New York Times_ Best Seller's List for the fourth month running.

The money that she was making on her book was outlandish. She had to extend her leave of absence from her job at _Travel & Leisure_ so she could tackle the demands of the media.

Neal Conan hosted "Talk of the Nation" with Piper on NPR, followed by a brief interview in _The Atlantic Monthly_ , and neither reporter asked about Alex, for which she was grateful—they focused on prison reform and her ideas on how to make the justice system less flawed. Still, Piper fell asleep every night, wondering about Alex's intentions. The memories were still there, mostly in her dreams or during fitful nights of sleep, but Piper's concern about Alex's next move kept her mind racing more than anything.

It wasn't until _Elle_ did an interview with her a week after the Dateline piece when she was asked about her relationship with Alex.

"Alex Vause conducted an interview with Dateline, accusing you of telling a biased story. What do you make of that?"

"My relationship with her was only background—it set up the story. I never intended to make it the focus of my book." Piper moved a piece of hair across her forehead. "This memoir is about my time in prison, not my time with Jaye."

"You mean, _Alex_."

"In the book, it's _Jaye_ , so I'd prefer if we stuck with that name." Piper looked nervously at Blair, who was sitting to her left. Her publicist nodded and placed a hand over her client's. The fact that it was a phone interview rather than Skype or on air made it a bit easier for Piper to hide her expressions and emotions.

"Were you in love with her? With _Jaye_?"

She bit her lower lip. Piper knew the answer to that question, but she had never voiced it to anyone other than Larry and Polly, ensuring that both of them recognized that it was in the past. " _Why does it even matter_?" she'd asked her fiancé. " _That was ages ago. I was a different person then._ "

"Yes," she whispered, trying to keep emotion out of the one syllable response.

"When did you stop loving her?"

Piper closed her eyes and tried to relax her shoulders, remembering the breathing exercises that her yoga instructor had taught her. "It was a gradual thing—there wasn't a singular moment when I thought I wasn't in love anymore."

"If Jaye wanted to see you, would you oblige?"

"I don't know," she sighed, becoming increasingly frustrated with the reporter's line of questioning. "I thought this interview was about my time in prison?"

"I hate to tell you this, Ms. Chapman, but right now the world is far more fascinated by your relationship with Alex Vause than the fact that you served time. And, off record, you should know that the Internet is blowing up with searches for both of you. There were over a million hits on either your name, Alex's name or a combination of the two since the Dateline interview. So we can discuss your time in prison and your newfound mission to change the US penal system, but that's not what's going to sell copies of my magazine."

Blair put her hand over the speaker and gave Piper a pointed look. "You can either go along with this, or we can end it right here. Your choice," she whispered.

Piper's lip quivered. "I can't continue like this."

She nodded. "Ms. Hall, I'm sorry, but Piper will have to call you back tomorrow. Is this a good time to reach you?"

"Yes, that's fine," the reporter sighed. "I'll look forward to finishing the interview then."

"You ok?" Blair asked when the line disconnected.

Piper put her head in her hands. "Why do people want to know about my relationship with Alex? I don't get it."

"I think it's a combination of things—now that gay marriage is legal, many people are more comfortable talking about same sex relationships."

Piper understood that on a cerebral level, but that couldn't be the main reason why the general public wanted to know more.

"I also think the way the two of you look, I mean physically, adds to the intrigue."

Piper wrinkled her forehead, borderline upset at Blair's comment. "What?"

"You're attractive women, Piper. Do you have any idea how many 'Image' hits of the two of you the Internet search engines reported over the past month?" She leaned forward. "1.6 _million_. People are curious about both of you, and they find you to be a stunning and an intriguing couple."

"We're not a couple." Piper punctuated her statement with elevated eyebrows. "And so what if we're both attractive women? That's completely irrelevant to my book!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Blair let out a soft laugh. "Your physical appeal doesn't have _everything_ to do with the success of your memoir, but it adds to it. Why do you think companies hire models? _To sell products_. People often buy stuff they don't need because of the image behind the product. The sales of Aveeno tripled since Jennifer Aniston became the spokesperson! The same is true for you, and I hate to tell you this, but it's also true for Alex. You're beautiful women, and people want to see videos and photographs of you. They also want to know your story."

Piper threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. At the start of all of this, she had no idea that the public would be fascinated by her and Alex's relationship. She'd had absolutely no intention of making her former relationship a selling point of her book. Larry had warned her that people were going to be intrigued, but what did he know?

"We can work on some stock responses to those types of questions, but the fascination won't die down until another book or movie comes out that has two equally appealing leads, and the public loses interest in you and Alex."

The blonde couldn't believe Blair was comparing her and Alex to movie stars. "It's all ridiculous and exhausting."

Blair stood and put her hand on Piper's arm. "I hope you're able to get some rest tonight. Our flight to Chicago is at 7 a.m. I'll reschedule the _Elle_ interview for tomorrow afternoon just before the Oprah segment."

That night, she and Larry had a long conversation about Piper's future. There was talk about her quitting her job and taking one of the myriad job offers she had from publications, non-profits and even universities. Larry tried to help her figure out what her passion was—prison reform, writing, speaking, editing. Piper still didn't have the answer to that question, though she was leaning more towards writing and speaking about the US penal system, and she had two job offers that would allow her to do just that. One thing she knew for certain: she wouldn't make a dramatic career move until the publicity from the book died down considerably.

Larry had been a decent sounding board for her over the past several months, but there was something 'off' about their relationship ever since Alex had been discovered. Piper knew that her fiancé was jealous of her success to some degree, but he hid it fairly well. Still, the spark that once existed between them had died down, and some of their conversations were downright awkward. Piper attributed it to the fact that she was overwhelmed with publicity for her memoir, traveling all over the country, and Larry was still freelancing, giving him more time to "just be." She admitted to herself that she was far more attracted to Larry when he was beating the pavement for new writing gigs, but now, he seemed to just exist.

* * *

After checking into her hotel room in Chicago, Piper logged on to her computer and did a search for "Alex Vause & Piper Chapman." The first two pages of the Google results were links to articles or links to buy _Every Sentence Tells a Story_. What showed up on the third page onward was astonishing—there were at least 20 blogs about the two of them, fanfiction sites, and "couples" boards. Piper clicked on the Images tab and saw old photos of herself from high school and college. She had no idea who posted them or how they ended up on the Internet. She covered her mouth in astonishment as she scrolled through the hundred or so images. There were far fewer pictures of Alex, and the ones posted were taken directly from the three print articles that she'd done. Piper found herself clicking on a few of the pictures, zooming in and staring at Alex's flawless face. One in particular captivated her: Alex was wearing a gray, V-neck sweater and her dark hair was strung over one shoulder. She had on makeup, but it wasn't overdone. Her lipstick was more of a pink tint than the bright red that Alex used to wear, and Piper wondered if the makeup artist chose the lighter shade to soften her look. Her eyes were outlined in dark black eyeliner, but her eyeshadow was more subtle, almost matching the hue of the lipstick. Alex was smirking in the picture, forcing Piper to wonder what she was thinking. No doubt about it—Alex's publicist was savvy. He or she made the brunette look softer than the literary picture that Piper had painted in her book.

The blonde closed her laptop with a thud, upset that Alex had entered her life again and seemed to be hanging on to her coattails to gain publicity of her own. Piper didn't want _her_ success to lend to her ex-girlfriend's in anyway, and she wondered if Blair could put an end to it. She was also frustrated with herself for the curiosity that simmered deep within her about Alex's life. She'd been out of prison for a month at that point—where was she living? Was she trying to get a job? Go to college? Write a book of her own?

Piper didn't tell anyone about the dreams she had about her ex-lover. Some of them were uneventful—Alex standing in the background or a meager part of the scenery. Others were more provocative. Piper wondered if she was really half-awake, remembering times when they kissed or had sex, or if those dreams were scenes that never happened—she was just _visualizing_ them.

She took a shower and tried to focus on the interview later that day—she was going to meet Oprah Winfrey. Oprah was the biggest celebrity Piper would ever meet, and she hoped she'd keep it together enough to not seem like a babbling idiot on camera. The way Blair had explained it was that the interview would first air on Oprah's network, but CBS bought the rights to it, and depending on what the executives thought of the broadcast, they could choose to air it later that evening or not at all.

On the drive to Harpo Studios, Piper finished the interview with the _Elle_ reporter on the phone, and she was thankful that the four follow-up questions weren't that hard to answer. The most difficult one was if she would accept an apology from Alex for naming her and sending her to prison. Piper replied, "That's never going to happen, so it would be pointless for me to answer." The reporter pushed, but Piper didn't give an inch.

After their arrival at Harpo, Piper and Blair got a quick tour of the studio, and the blonde was in awe of where she was and what she was about to do. She'd been an Oprah fan since her teenage years and admired the woman tremendously for making a name for herself without being a tyrant. Piper would be hard pressed to find a more admirable celebrity.

The production assistant escorted them to the dressing room and handed Blair a sheet with time stamps on what was happening when. The first step was makeup. She walked into the brightly lit room with a smile. Piper turned to her left, and the smile quickly faded as her eyebrows formed a V on her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly felt lightheaded.

"Alex?"


	4. Chapter 4

Previously in Chapter 3:

 _After their arrival at Harpo, Piper and Blair got a quick tour of the studio, and the blonde was in awe of where she was and what she was about to do. She'd been an Oprah fan since her teenage years and admired the woman tremendously for making a name for herself without being a tyrant. Piper would be hard pressed to find a more admirable celebrity. The production assistant escorted them to the dressing room and handed Blair a sheet with time stamps on what was happening when. The first step was makeup._

 _She walked into the brightly lit room with a smile. She turned to her left, and the smile quickly faded as her eyebrows formed a V on her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly felt lightheaded._

" _Alex?"_

* * *

"Piper?" The dark haired woman scowled at her, and then turned to an impeccably dressed thin man standing next to her. "What the fuck is _she_ doing here?"

Piper put her hand against the wall to steady herself. "I could ask you the same question."

Blair glanced at the man, and then back at Piper. "We knew you both wouldn't agree to go on air together, so we set this up."

"Excuse me?" Piper asked.

"What the fuck?" Alex watched the man stand next to Blair.

"My name is Kennedy Sharpe," he addressed Piper, and then swiveled to face Alex. "And this is Blair Mitchell. We're publicists."

"I don't believe this," the blonde spat. "You _arranged_ this without telling me?"

"It _had_ to happen, Piper," Blair exhaled, chin held high. "If you want this thing to go away, we have to attack it dead on."

"Like hell we do! I'm not going on air with _her_!" She whipped her head around. "Did you know about this?"

"Does it look like I did?" Alex shot back, arms out to her sides.

"This is a win-win situation, ladies." Kennedy folded his arms. "Sales of your book are going to skyrocket, and it's a lucrative deal for my client."

"I'm not in this for the money, Mr. Sharpe," Piper announced with a quick head shake. "Your client clearly is, but I refuse to pay her bills. She's using me. _You're_ using me!"

"If you walk away from this interview, Piper, you'll forfeit the chance to be on national television with the most respected celebrity in the world." Blair placed a hand on Piper's shoulder and looked her in the eye. "Don't let your emotions get in the way of making a wise business decision."

"This isn't just business to me, Blair!" She pulled away and stared at her ex-lover. "It's forcing me to be in the same room with the woman who _put me in prison_!" She turned away. "I won't do it."

"We're going to leave you in the room together for 15 minutes," Blair said. "Work it out. We're not canceling on Oprah."

Through the mirror, Piper watched Kennedy and Blair leave the room, and she saw Alex march towards the door and turn the knob, pulling it several times.

"What the fuck? They locked us in."

Piper turned around, fear etched on her face, and tried the handle for herself. She pounded on the door. "Blair, open the door right now! This isn't funny!"

Alex leaned against the counter and sighed. "You're wasting your breath."

The blonde scowled at her with rage in her eyes. "Do you think I'm going to stand here and talk to you like a human being?"

"We don't have to say a word to each other." Alex shrugged. "I'm doing the interview with our without you."

Piper was uncompromisingly furious. She took a step closer and pushed Alex forcefully on the chest. "Fuck you, Alex!" She shoved her once more with all of her might. "Fuck you for riding my coattails and making this all about you just so you can earn a fucking dime! This is _my_ life!"

The dark haired woman appeared surprised at Piper's physicality, but she stood taller; more confident. "As you're so fond of saying, I'm the reason you went to prison, so without me—without _that_ —you wouldn't have a fucking tale to tell! I'm just as much a part of this story as you are."

"This wasn't supposed to be about you!" Piper shook her head violently. "The memoir is about my year behind bars; you just so happen to be the reason I was there!"

Alex jutted one leg out and put her hands on her hips. "Which makes me part of the equation."

Piper didn't reply. She ran her hand over her head and tried to think of a solution, but none was forthcoming. No thoughts crossed her mind—it was as if she was trying to plow straight ahead when a cement barrier was in the way.

The two remained silent for a minute, and Piper could hear the buzz of electricity in the room.

"Is now a bad time to say it's good to see you?" Alex whispered, taking a step closer.

Shivers ran down the blonde's body. Any time Alex had complimented her in the past or said something nice, her heart would flutter. Despite trying with all her might, Piper couldn't fight that familiar reaction. She looked up at her ex-girlfriend, feeling her eyes soften. Piper bit down hard on her back teeth, clenching her jaw. She didn't know how to respond.

A key in the door startled them, and Blair stepped inside. "So what's it going to be?"

"I'll do it on one condition." Piper glanced at Alex before turning her attention to her publicist. "This is it. I won't answer any more questions about Alex—past or present. It's a one-shot thing."

Blair regarded Kennedy, who nodded once, and then smiled. "Deal."

Not 30 seconds passed before Piper was whisked away by a makeup artist to a stool on the right side of the room, and Alex was taken to one on the left. The women could see each other through the mirror, both stealing glances when the other wasn't looking.

Blair sat next to Piper and handed her a sheet of questions that Oprah would likely ask. The two conversed about appropriate responses, but Piper had a hard time focusing on anything other than her ex-girlfriend. She was wearing a white blouse with little black stars clustered in different areas and dark jeans with short boots. Her hair was longer than Piper remembered, but it was equally as dark as it had been 12 years ago. There was no denying Alex's beauty—she was still a sight for sore eyes. The fact that Alex had wanted _her_ all those years ago still surprised Piper. The brunette was in a league of her own when it came to physical beauty.

"We're down to ten minutes," an assistant walked in and handed Blair and Kennedy a sheet of paper.

"You feel prepared?" Blair asked.

The makeup artist finished applying blush to Piper's cheeks before removing the thin, protective cloth from around her neck. "No, but I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"The show is being taped, so if you get flustered or feel like you said something you shouldn't have, they can always go back and edit it."

That was only somewhat of a relief, but at least it wasn't live.

"I'm serious, Blair." The blonde rubbed her lips together, smoothing the thick application of lipstick. "This is it. I won't discuss Alex after today."

"I understand." She assisted Piper off the stool. "One more thing: don't run your hands through your hair. It means you're nervous, and you want to come off calm and collected. Plus, it's perfectly straightened—not a hair out of place."

"I need to make a phone call." She nodded and glared at Alex before walking out of the dressing room.

Piper called Polly, explaining what had transpired and asking if she'd watch the show with Larry that night if it aired. "I don't want him to watch it alone," she'd said.

Polly agreed, but wanted more information. The blonde had to hang up with an apology as they were being escorted into the studio. "I promise to fill you in later. Let's just say this will be the last time I have to talk about Alex to anyone."

Just before Piper could hit the 'end call' button, she heard Polly say, "This is a bad idea, Pipes."

* * *

Piper shook Oprah's hand and immediately forgot about the woman standing next to her. She was completely star struck for the first five minutes, until the women were asked to sit next to each other on a small sofa. As Alex took her seat, she flung her hair back, and Piper could smell her hair products. She smelled exactly the same as she had all those years ago—like coconut and salt water. Piper rubbed her nose, as if that would erase the pleasant, familiar scent.

The director wasted no time on small talk. He positioned each woman appropriately, gave them a short list of instructions as the lighting folks swirled around them, and then he moved behind the camera.

A makeup artist touched up Oprah's face and adjusted her lapel microphone.

"And we're set," the director announced. "In five, four, three, two…" He pointed at Oprah.

Oprah looked directly into the camera, "Good evening. For those of you who haven't read Piper Chapman's memoir, _Every Sentence Tells a Story_ , order it online right now or run, don't walk to your local bookstore to pick up a copy. The book is riddled with lust, intrigue, mystery, and of course, a glimpse of life behind bars. Chapman walks the reader through her brief and tumultuous relationship with _Jaye Reed_ , who happens to work for an international drug cartel. After reading the first few chapters, the reader is left with the question, _What would you do for love_? We're transported to Litchfield Federal Penitentiary, where Chapman learns how to clean her cube with sanitary napkins, make prison cheesecake and rewire a toaster. Throughout the captivating tale, the reader ultimately sympathizes with Chapman and other criminals, and we're left with a better understanding of minimum sentences and the grim conditions in prisons across the nation." Oprah turned to a different camera. "When I finished the memoir, like many of you, I was left wondering about Jaye Reed, whose real name, we've recently learned, is _Alex Vause_. This summer, the Internet exploded with questions about Vause, and after she appeared on Dateline, people seemed to become even more intrigued by Vause and her former relationship with the author."

The camera pulled back, and the director nodded towards Alex and Piper.

"I'm delighted to welcome our guests to the show: Alex Vause and Piper Chapman." Oprah smiled. "Welcome."

"Thank you," the women replied in unison.

Piper crossed her legs, tugging at the hem of her skirt, ensuring that it hadn't ridden up too high. She'd done more than 20 television interviews since the book's release, so her nerves had little to do with facing a camera and everything to do with the woman sitting next to her.

"It's my understanding that this is the first time the two of you have seen each other in 12 years."

"Yes." Piper tucked her hair behind an ear.

"That's right." Alex rubbed her jean-clad thigh, and the blonde was drawn to the motion. She'd held onto those very thighs with her head between those legs many times.

"So what's it like?" Oprah swung an arm over the back of her chair. "What are you feeling right now?"

The blonde could sense Alex's stare, but she refused to glance at her. She didn't speak— _couldn't_ speak for fear of blurting something out that would get her in trouble; better to let Alex speak first.

"It's strange. I mean, here's this person I spent a year of my life with, but I haven't seen in more than a decade. It's surreal," Alex stated.

"Mmm, that's understandable," Oprah replied. "Piper?"

She inhaled deeply. "I haven't been able to wrap my brain around it yet."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

She quickly glanced at Alex, and then back at Oprah. "A little."

Oprah's eyes shot from one woman to the other. "It seems like there are still some hard feelings between the two of you."

"We've never discussed anything that happened between us, so yes, there's still some bad blood," Piper shared in an even tone, concentrating on Oprah rather than her ex-girlfriend.

"Why not pick up the phone and call each other over the years? Or send an e-mail or a text?" Oprah crossed her legs.

"Things ended badly." Alex pushed up a shirt sleeve, and just like when Piper watched her in the Dateline interview, she was drawn to the tattoo around her forearm. "And we're both too stubborn to have reached out, I guess."

Piper nodded, still distracted by Alex's smooth flesh.

Oprah shifted in her seat. "In the book, you spend about four chapters, discussing your relationship with Jaye…or _Alex_ …and much of what you wrote painted a picture of this almost _hypnotizing_ woman who eventually lost interest in you and ultimately named you to the authorities, which landed you in jail," she began. "I get the hypnotizing part!" Oprah looked at Alex and put a hand on her forehead as if she had a fever. "Let me tell you, girl is fine!"

Piper watched the dark haired woman lower her head and blush, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She knew if this was being filmed in front of a studio audience, there would be hoots & hollers.

Oprah's smile faded slowly as she returned to a more serious matter. "In Alex's interviews with Hoda Kotb on Dateline and with Natalia James in Vanity Fair _,_ the part Alex claims that's missing from your book is the _joyful_ times you spent together."

"The purpose of my memoir wasn't to tell the story about my relationship with Alex," she began. This was familiar ground—she could talk about her book for days on end. "I needed to mention it to set up the crux of the book, which was my time in prison."

"Ah, I see." Oprah nodded. "So _were_ there good times?"

"Of course there were." Piper glanced at Alex, and suddenly, the brunette felt so _fucking_ familiar right down to the perfect lines around her mouth when she smiled. "We traveled around the world together, visiting places that people dream about. I was young and naïve; thirsty for adventure, and Alex provided that."

Oprah turned to Alex, as if waiting for her reply.

"Yeah, it was exciting and new and fun." She leaned slightly towards Piper. "When you travel with a person who means something to you, it gives the places you go or the things you do that much more significance."

Oprah smiled. "What were some highlights for you?"

Piper looked up at the ceiling, trying to catalogue the many moments they'd shared. This part of the interview wasn't so bad—she could share a few memories with Oprah without feeling guilty. Still, she didn't appreciate being blindsided by the on-screen coupling, and she hoped there wouldn't be any awkward moments that she'd later regret. "The hot air balloon ride in Tuscany was pretty amazing."

"It was." Alex smiled. "Some of the beaches we went to looked almost fake, you know, with the turquoise water, bleach-white sand. It was like sunbathing in a postcard."

Piper nodded, instantly recalling the topless beaches they frequented in Southern France. She glanced at Alex's chest, and then quickly back at Oprah. "The Caribbean was gorgeous."

"We mostly stayed in five star hotels, which was a treat." Alex grinned, and Piper melted a little at the memories. "Some of them were right on the beach or directly over the water. Remember Bora Bora?"

 _Did she ever_. For three nights they had an overwater villa with views of Mount Otemanu, but Piper remembered staying in bed for nearly 48 hours straight, having copious amounts of sex. It wasn't until their last day when they went snorkeling and skinny dipped in the lagoon beneath them. That was the trip when she got her one and only tattoo, while Alex held her hand and distracted her from the needle by showing her the underwater photos she'd taken of sea turtles and brightly colored fish.

"Yes." Piper smiled fondly. It was so easy to remember what she loved about Alex—the way she looked at her was enough to fall in love all over again, but she didn't dare allow that thought to cross her mind any more than it already had. Piper snapped back to reality and turned her attention to the interviewer.

"I think one of you brought a photograph from your time as a couple." Oprah turned to the large screen behind her, and a picture flashed onto it.

Piper was confused—she didn't even have a picture of the two of them and didn't think that Alex would've kept one. "Did you bring that?" she whispered.

"I found it in one of my boxes."

At first, the blonde was pissed that Alex brought a photo of their former life together, but after gazing at it for a few seconds, she couldn't help but remember how deeply in love they'd been (and how gorgeous they looked as a couple. That was never something she'd appreciated before seeing the photograph on the big screen.)

It was a picture of them in the Swiss Alps wrapped in a thick blanket made of elk fur. Piper was sitting on Alex's lap, head slightly turned, smiling and looking up at Alex, who sported a wide smile of her own. There was no mistaking the look of love on both of their faces. _They'd been so happy_.

"Do you remember this day?" Oprah asked casually.

"Mmm," Alex reflected. "Like it was yesterday."

"Tell me about it." Oprah leaned forward, chin on her fist as if hoping to hang on every word.

"Piper had gone skiing all day, and I'd joined her like five hours into it—I'm not the most graceful skier," Alex began with a somewhat veiled grin. "I tried snowboarding that day." She turned to Piper. "Remember that?"

Piper couldn't help the snort that escaped. "Yes, you weren't very graceful at _that_ either."

"So I can't ski," Alex stated with her hands extended and a self-deprecating smile.

Oprah gave her a high five. "Join the club."

"Anyway, we went back to the hotel, showered…" She paused and cleared her throat, glancing sideways at the blonde.

Piper pulled her lips in, trying to avoid a smirk, and scratched her head, clearly remembering what they'd done in the shower.

"You're going to 'yadda, yadda, yadda' over the best part, aren't you?" Oprah asked with her own smirk, referencing the famous _Seinfeld_ scene.

Both women tucked strands of hair behind their ear and fidgeted in their seats. Piper wouldn't touch that statement with a ten foot pole. The one question she was grateful that no one had asked her since the book's release was if the sex between them was good. If that question had surfaced, she would try to lie like a pro, but there would be no way she'd pull it off. Truth was, the sex was phenomenal, and even after all these years, Piper still had moments in the throes of passion when she pictured Alex on top of her instead of Larry.

"I'm guessing this is a G-rated show, so yeah." The brunette licked her lips. "Afterwards, we took one of those sleigh rides in Lugano, complete with the furry blanket, hot chocolate, and twinkly-lights all around us," Alex continued. "It was one of those magical evenings you never forget."

Piper had always admired Alex's ability to tell stories, even short ones. She nodded her response, hopeful that Oprah wouldn't ask a follow-up question.

"Do you remember things that way?"

 _Damn, Oprah_.

"Yeah, I do," Piper replied, leaning back, straightening her posture and putting on her best somber face. "Like I said, there _were_ good times, and it's easy to get lost in them, but ultimately, we _ruined_ each other."

The mood in the room shifted dramatically, and Piper was well aware of what she'd done.

"That's a harsh word: 'ruin'," Oprah commented.

"She neglected me," the blonde began as she watched Alex stiffen next to her. Nevertheless, she continued. "Alex would disappear for days or even weeks at a time, leaving me in some foreign city with no friends, no family…"

"You act like I left you in the middle of the African desert," Alex replied with a quick head shake. "When I had to travel for work, you were in cities like Florence, San Sebastian, Paris…" she trailed off, turning her attention to Piper. "It's not like I was abandoning you in the middle of nowhere…Plus, I gave you _gobs_ of money. You could buy anything you wanted in some of the most amazing cities in the world, and that wasn't enough for you!"

"Because you weren't with me!" Piper blurted out, no consideration for being on camera. "Those places were _meaningless_ when you weren't by my side!"

Oprah's eyes shifted from one woman to the other.

"You _knew_ going into this that I traveled a lot for my job, and I couldn't be with you 24/7." Alex's gaze penetrated right through her. "It's not like I sprung that on you halfway through our relationship."

"Being with me for three or four days a week would've been fine!" Piper raised her brows. "But you did your thing and made me fend for myself. If I'd been in my 30s, I would've handled things a lot differently, but I was 22-years-old and absolutely clueless. _All I wanted was to be with you_."

The blonde could sense a hint of regret in Alex's expression, and Piper knew she'd revealed too much.

"And that's why you left?" Oprah asked, directing her attention to Piper.

Her jaw tightened. "That, plus Alex asked me to transport money for the cartel for the second time."

"I was in an extreme bind," the dark haired woman replied, adjusting her black frames. "I wouldn't have asked if that wasn't the case."

"You _never_ should've asked." Piper put her hands out, making an X with them. Her brow furrowed as she regarded her companion. "That's not why I was there, and you lost sight of that."

Alex ran a hand through her hair. "You're right."

Silence descended upon them, but Oprah continued. "So things got sour between the two of you, then Alex's mother passed away, and then Piper left."

The women became increasingly uncomfortable. Alex cracked the tendons in her neck, and Piper turned her body as far away from the brunette as she could.

Oprah shifted her attention to the blonde. "I can understand why your picking that moment to leave would upset Alex."

"I'll admit that my timing sucked," Piper's expression remained neutral. "But I don't regret leaving."

Alex huffed. "Why didn't you mention _that part_ in the book?"

"It had no place my memoir," Piper replied as calmly as she could, though her insides were balled in a knot.

"You wanted to come off to the reader as this cute, likeable, 'experimental straight girl' who had the time of her life for nine months, but ditched the woman she loved at the most inopportune time."

"That's not entirely accurate," Piper shot back. "I'd made up my mind to leave Paris a week before your mom died, and you fucking hid my passport so I couldn't get back to the US!"

Oprah glanced at the director, presumably due to the curse word, but he made a motion to continue.

" _My mom died_ ," Alex stated with a pained voice. "You knew her; you were _close_ to her. How in the world could you leave me at a moment like that?"

Piper shook her head and looked at her lap, knowing there was no 'clean' way out of this. "I'd already booked the ticket. The plane happened to leave that day, and I refused get sucked back into your web one more time. I knew if I didn't leave then, I'd never do it."

The brunette looked away, and silence overtook the studio. The only sound was of muted voices on headsets behind the scenes.

"There's clearly some unfinished business between you," Oprah stated. "We'll take a break. Back in two minutes."

The makeup artists flew onto the set, dabbing powder on all three women and adjusting their hair. As one man applied lipstick to Alex, Piper glared at her. The women were at an impasse, and Piper hated dredging up these old wounds. It was as if a Band-Aid had been ripped off, reapplied, and then ripped away again. The women didn't exchange words during the quick break.

"You're doing a great job, ladies," Oprah said. She smiled at them, and then the director gave her the cue to look into the camera. "We're back with Piper Chapman and Alex Vause…So, Piper left after your mom died, and then what?"

"I came back to the US to make funeral arrangements, and then I was back on a plane to Paris a few days later." Alex sounded upset—like she was still hung up on Piper's leaving even now.

"When did the feds finally catch up to you?"

She breathed in through her nose. "Five years later. And then a year after that, I was given a deal: name the other people involved and get time shaved off my sentence."

"That's when you named Piper?"

Alex glanced at her, but Piper remained focused on Oprah. The blonde folded her arms, not giving Alex the satisfaction of her attention.

"Yeah, Piper and seven others," Alex said. "Not my proudest moment—I'm not a snitch—but if you spend even _a week_ in prison, I'm sure you'd agree there's literally _nothing_ you wouldn't do to get the hell out of there."

"Mmm," Oprah seemed to take her response in, and then she turned to the blonde. "What happened when you found out that Alex had named you?"

"I never had confirmation that it was her," Piper admitted. "Two officers showed up at my door, and three days later, I was in prison. I figured it was her—no one else knew I'd transported that suitcase _except_ Alex." She bit down hard on her back teeth.

"How did that make you feel?"

"Horrible, betrayed." She bowed her head. "I'd started a soap company with my friend, Polly, and just as we were drumming up business, I was hauled off to prison. Alex ruined my life."

She could see the brunette in the monitor to the left of the main camera, and Alex tossed her hair to the side with the flick of her finger, steely expression on her face.

"I'm guessing there should be apologies all around." Oprah sat back. "Is there anything you'd like to say to each other?"

Piper twisted her hands in her lap. "I don't expect Alex to ever apologize to me with any real sincerity, and even if she did, it wouldn't be on television."

Alex's eyebrows lifted and lowered quickly as she looked away. Piper knew that was her _stunned_ look, and she was glad to have put her in her place.

"So where does that leave you?" Oprah focused on Alex.

The brunette swallowed hard. "With a lot of pain and regret."

Piper ran her hand through her hair and saw Blair's body tighten. _Fuck_ , she wasn't supposed to do that.

"I hope that the two of you can work things out and become friends again. I know what it's like to travel with your closest girlfriend, and if Gail and I ever had the kind of massive fight that you did, I'd be incredibly sad not to have her in my life as I grow older."

The women glanced at each other, but didn't say a word. Piper felt a pang in her chest at knowing that she'd once cherished Alex, and they'd never have that kind of connection again.

Oprah said a few more words, and the show ended. She shook both of their hands, and then exited the stage as Blair and Kennedy approached their clients. Blair hugged Piper and the blonde could feel the sting of tears in her eyes. _Let's get you out of here_. As she stepped off the stage, Piper twisted her head around and watched Alex, watching her. The blonde turned a corner, and that was that.


	5. Chapter 5

Back in the dressing room, Piper gathered her belongings as Blair complimented her on the way she handled the interview. The publicist made a couple of calls, and finally excused herself as she had to take one in private. Piper took that moment to call her fiancé.

"Hi, Larry."

"How'd it go?"

"As best as it could, I guess," she sighed. "Looks like it's going to air on CBS in a few hours. I asked Polly to watch it with you."

"Yeah, she's on her way over." He paused. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." She trailed her fingertips through her hair and closed her eyes. "It wasn't easy seeing her…seeing Alex…" Piper didn't know how much to divulge, so she left it at that.

"I can imagine. Fuck her." Larry huffed.

She shoved a sweater into her bag as the dressing room door opened. When she looked up, Alex froze in the doorway. "I, um, I have to go. I'll call you later."

"Yeah, ok. Go to your hotel, take a bath, relax. Don't let her get to you," he instructed.

Piper blinked twice as she stared at her ex. "I won't."

Alex took a few steps into the room as Piper ended the call. "I'm just going to grab my stuff."

The blonde put the phone in her purse and hoisted her duffle bag over one shoulder. "Were you in on this scheme?"

"I already told you that I wasn't." She put on her jacket. "This isn't the way I wanted to see you for the first time in 12 years."

Piper was exhausted—too exhausted to protest. "How did you want it to happen?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe agreeing to meet for coffee or a beer or something; nothing this contrived."

"Huh." Piper smoothed her hands down her skirt.

"What?"

"I thought you might like 'contrived' after you decided to go on a press circuit of your own." Piper walked towards the door, keeping her eyes diverted.

"You were right about one thing," Alex exhaled. "I need to make money. The feds took almost everything I own. They confiscated my condo and all of my furniture, and they liquidated my bank accounts. I'm not going to apologize for riding your coattails for the time being." She lifted her bag and walked over to the blonde. "I won't disparage you to the media though. I'm over my resentment about you leaving when my mom died—at least _publically_."

Piper kept her head bowed but lifted her eyes. "And privately?"

She shook her head. "It's still a sore spot…even after all these years."

Piper grabbed the door handle, and Alex's hand quickly covered hers. The blonde creased her forehead. "What are you doing?"

"Can we talk somewhere that doesn't involve cameras or publicists or fucking reporters, even if they _are_ Oprah Winfrey?"

Piper couldn't hide the fatigue in her expression. "I don't have anything more to say to you, Alex."

The brunette issued a dejected smile and removed her hand. Piper suddenly felt like she was shivering all alone in a cold ocean.

"Fine." Alex stepped away. "Good luck with everything."

"Thanks." Piper opened the door and walked down the long hallway, feeling tears threaten to fall. She picked up the pace as the first tear dropped, burning her cheek. Walking away from Alex had always been damn near impossible, and even with this much time having passed, it still left a hole in her heart.

* * *

Piper returned from Chicago the next day, and when she walked in the door, she found Larry pacing in their living room. The last time they'd talked was before he'd seen the Oprah interview, and judging from his expression, he wasn't pleased with the outcome.

"Hi." She dropped her bag in the hallway and approached her fiancé. "Is everything ok?"

" _You_ tell _me_." He scratched his chin.

Piper looked confused. "Tell you what?"

"You can deny it all you want, Piper, but there's still something between you and Alex." He tightened his jaw. "Maybe the general public can't see it—or maybe they _can_ and that's why they're so fucking captivated by the two of you—but I sure as hell can."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She stepped around him, trying to control her expression as if she'd been caught in a lie.

"You probably don't even realize the way you look at her." Larry took her by the arm. "We're going to watch it together, and I'll show you."

Piper didn't know how to react or what to say. She'd done everything in her power to _not_ look at Alex in a revealing way during the Oprah interview.

Larry turned on the television and found the program recorded on their DVR. He hit play and remained standing. Piper hadn't seen the playback yet, so this would be the first time she'd see the two of them with her own eyes from a viewer's perspective. She knew that the segment was going to be edited, but she had no idea how much.

About two minutes in, Larry hit pause. "Right there. Tell me that's not a 'wanting' look!"

" _Wanting_?" She jutted her head back. "You're delusional, Larry. It's my normal face."

"Fine, we'll move on." He gave her a wily grin. "There are plenty more where that came from."

The scene where Alex rolled up her sleeve and Piper's eyes were drawn to her forearm tattoo aired.

"It looks like you want to _fuck_ her arm!" He yelled in a high pitched voice.

"What are you even talking about? You're reading into every little glance!"

He ended up pausing the program a total of 12 times, the majority of them occurring after the photograph of her and Alex flashed on the screen. That's when the interview turned lighter, and Piper acknowledged that she was simply recalling a warm memory. The next four times were around the part when Oprah questioned Piper's decision to leave after Alex's mother had died.

"Look at you!" He shouted, pointing at the TV. "You look like a guilty, lovesick puppy! It's borderline embarrassing."

" _You're_ borderline embarrassing!" The blonde shouted. "I was put on the spot about an _awful_ time in my life, and like it or not, I still carry guilt about leaving Alex literally five minutes after she told me that the only other person who cared about her had died!"

He threw his hands in the air. "You showed more emotion and affection towards Alex in a fucking interview than you've shown me in the past four months!"

"I'm not going to take this." Piper stood, grabbed her duffle bag, and walked out the door. She spun around to face him with one hand on the knob. "Pull yourself together, Larry. Jealousy doesn't look good on you."

As Piper walked towards the Subway, she felt a few tears slip down her face, not knowing where she was going or for how long she needed to be away from her fiancé. All she knew was that despite her best efforts, Alex still fucking meant something to her and she couldn't even hide it on national television.

* * *

Two weeks passed, and the demand for interviews hadn't slowed down. Piper ended up quitting her job as she knew her heart wasn't in editing travel stories any more. Blair admitted that she was surprised at the level of consistent interest, and she confessed to Piper that it had more to do with _Alex_ than the memoir. Piper didn't _want_ to believe that was true, but she could see it with her own eyes. While she waited in line at Zabar's one evening, she saw at least two magazine covers with a small picture of Alex or of the two of them in Switzerland. It was almost a daily occurrence when someone recognized her and asked for an autograph or to take a picture. She still couldn't fathom why people were so interested in her former relationship with Alex, but there was no denying the public's fascination.

She'd spent two nights at Blair's apartment, mostly to allow Larry to cool down, but when Piper returned home, he was still stewing about the interview. He accused Piper of 'becoming nostalgic' about her time spent with Alex. Piper, for her part, resented his statement, explaining that she and Alex _did_ have good times—they were some of the most memorable times of her life. Despite her reassurance that everything about Alex was in the past, Larry began distancing himself. She talked to Polly, Blair and even a therapist about the situation, but their advice was the same: End the publicity for the book, cut all ties with Alex, and everything would return to _normal_.

Since she was a child, Piper hated the word, _normal_. To her it meant _ordinary_ or _plain_ , and she was dreadfully both of those things for the first 21 years of her existence. Alex had shown her what it meant to be (or at least _live_ ) extraordinary. While Piper had no intention of living with reckless abandon again, she had to admit, the year with Alex was the best of her life.

Larry ended up spending a few nights a week at a friend's house or in the guest room at their apartment. She didn't want him to be away, but Piper did little to convince him to sleep in the same bed. She had no desire to have sex with him, blaming it on all of the hoopla she had to deal with on a daily basis. She hated putting her fiancé through the ringer like this, but she wouldn't lie to him about her past. Piper reminded him every day that he was her future, but the more time went on, the less she (and he) believed that. The thought of being _tied down_ made her break out in cold sweats, and she hated that she would inevitably hurt him.

* * *

One mid-October morning as Piper was brushing her teeth, she received a call in from Blair, who told her to open a video she'd sent. The blonde prodded downstairs, did as she was told, and opened the video on her desktop. When it finally appeared on the screen, a lump formed in her throat.

"What is this?" she whispered more to herself than to Blair.

"Someone leaked it online."

Piper watched the video with wide eyes, hunched over the desk, too stunned to even sit down. It was taken at one of the cartel client's property in Lima two months after Piper had begun traveling with Alex. There was a group of men and women, sitting around a massive firepit, and the video was primarily about a guy bragging that he could make 10 S'mores with one skewer. She remembered that it was summer in Peru, and the days were hot, but the nights were chilly. The camera focused on a marshmallow-lined skewer over the flames, but in the background, Alex sat on a blanket with her back against a river stone wall. About ten seconds into the video, Piper walked across the screen, and as she was about to pass Alex, the dark haired woman reached up and hooked her finger through Piper's belt loop on her cutoff jean shorts. Piper stopped in her tracks, almost tumbling over, and Alex tugged her closer. The blonde put a foot on either side of Alex's thighs, and Alex said something to her, causing her to throw her head back with laughter. Piper then lowered a piece of S'mores to her lover's mouth, but before she popped it in, reneged and put it into her own mouth. Alex smirked and grabbed the blonde's wrist, and the viewer could see a dab of chocolate on two of Piper's fingers. Alex gently sucked each one into her mouth. Piper lowered herself to her knees directly above Alex, placing her hands on the stone wall on either side of Alex's head. The stretch of her arms showed the outline of Piper's triceps, and Alex covered the muscle with one hand, running her other through golden blonde strands. Any lip reader could see that Alex mouthed, _I love you_ , before devouring Piper's mouth. The video ended with the skewer of marshmallows melting in the fire and riotous laughter followed.

Piper thought Blair was talking to her, but she didn't hear what her publicist was saying—all she could do was stare at the screen. She rewound it and played it again and again. Her face knotted as she remembered that rather ordinary evening, and Piper had to ask herself if she'd ever felt that way again. (She'd asked herself that question a thousand times since the book's release but dared not answer it.) She touched the screen as if that would help her feel the moment— _feel Alex_ —the way she had that night, and a sense of longing crept over her like a shadow.

"Piper? Are you there?"

"Hmm? Yeah." The blonde snapped back to attention. "How did you get this?"

"Our media service tracks everything you're tagged in," Blair responded. "We traced the IP Address, but it was posted from a public library in Pittsburgh. We have no way of knowing who leaked it."

"I'm pretty sure I know." She stood and rubbed the back of her neck. "I want you to put me in touch with Alex."

"Are you sure about that?"

Piper twisted around and glanced at the paused video of Alex with a wide smile on her face, hands on the backs of Piper's thighs, fingertips creeping under her shorts. "Give her my number."

"Oookay…" Blair sounded skeptical, but the blonde didn't care.

"Are you concerned about potential fallout from the video?" Blair asked.

"What could possibly happen?" Piper shrugged. "More publicity, right?"

"Right."

Piper had resisted 'owning' anything about her and Alex's relationship since she began writing the book more than a year ago, but over the past month, she felt defeated—nothing she could say or do would prevent people's intrigue about their short-lived relationship. She wasn't at the point of _embracing_ the publicity, but she knew she couldn't fight it any longer. It was like the world was conspiring to get the two women together in some way.

* * *

Piper tried to busy herself all morning as she waited for Alex's call. She scrambled eggs, unloaded the dishwasher, did a yoga video, and put the finishing touches on a speech that she'd give the next day at Columbia University. She checked her phone every few minutes, even restarting it once to be sure it was working properly. Piper looked for a text or an e-mail from Alex, but by 2 o'clock, she'd heard nothing.

Piper questioned if giving Alex her number was a wise decision. What did she want out of it? Obviously, the blonde wanted to talk to her ex-girlfriend, but to what end? Where would that conversation lead, and better yet, where did Piper _want_ it to go?

As she slipped on a pair of running shoes before going for a jog, where she could attempt to answer those questions while her feet pounded against the pavement, Piper's phone buzzed. She quickly grabbed it and didn't recognize the number on the screen. "Hello?"

"Hi." One word was all it took to recognize Alex's voice.

"It took you long enough."

"Anticipation killing you?" She could hear the smirk in her ex-girlfriend's voice.

"No…" Piper lied. "Have you seen the video?"

"Yeah, I have."

"Did you leak it?" Piper asked, knowing that couldn't be true.

"No! I didn't even know it existed," Alex answered. "That fucking little doughboy, Amir, leaked it, I'm sure. He was always filming something asinine."

The blonde lowered her head. "I figured as much."

"It's not going to hurt you," Alex tried. "The video, I mean."

"I know," came out in a fragile breath.

"Is that what this pressing call was about?" She pictured Alex tilting her head, phone cradled between her ear and shoulder.

"Yes," the blonde replied in her best agitated voice—how could Alex not think it was important to discuss who leaked the video?

"It wasn't your feeble attempt at giving me your number?" Once again, Piper could hear her smirk.

She blushed. "No."

"Ok, just checking."

There was an exceedingly long pause between them, and Piper closed her eyes and listened to Alex's breath. She opened her mouth to say goodbye, but she couldn't find the words.

"Why are we still on the phone, Piper?" Alex finally asked, her voice sounding serious and _knowing_.

Piper sucked in her lips and kept her eyes shut as she contemplated her answer. "I don't know."

"Ok, then. Take care."

"Alex, wait!" Piper moved the phone to her other ear and put her hand on the back of a chair to steady her trembling legs. "I need to see you."

" _Need to_?" She pictured the brunette jutting her head back in surprise. "When?"

"Now." Piper kept her eyes shut, as if opening them would reveal her desire.

"You're assuming I live in New York, Piper. You don't know anything about my life," the brunette replied.

Piper's eyes shot open. Alex was right, she had no idea where her ex-lover lived. "I just assumed you'd moved back when you got out of prison."

"I did. I'm just messing with you." She let out a low laugh.

"Fuck you, Alex," came out a lot more playful than the last time Piper had said those words. She found herself grinning despite Alex's ill-timed joke.

"We should probably go somewhere inconspicuous, like a biker bar or something," the dark haired woman stated.

Piper was going to suggest that they meet at Alex's apartment, but then she thought better of it. The two of them had no business being alone. "I wouldn't know the first thing about biker bars, so…"

"There's a place in Riverdale called The Mill where no one gives a shit about who sits next to them. I'll text you the address."

"Ok. Give me an hour," Piper said, standing straight and taking a deep breath.

"See you then."

With that, they hung up and Piper's heart pounded like a drum.

She couldn't identify the reasons why she _needed_ to see Alex, but she knew that the video had provoked her more than even seeing Alex in person in Chicago. Watching them together on the screen made her long for the simpler days when their biggest decision was where to eat for dinner on any given night. Piper returned to her computer and watched the video another ten times. She didn't feel the need to inform Larry about the video since it was still relatively underground, nor did Piper feel compelled to tell him about their clandestine meeting. She would see how things went between her and Alex, and then make a decision about informing her fiancé.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews so far! Please keep them coming if you're enjoying this story.


	6. Chapter 6

Rather than taking the long Subway ride to Riverdale, Piper decided to drive to The Mill. She'd changed outfits three times before leaving home, finally settling on her favorite pair of jeans and an ivory colored cashmere sweater. She parked her car next to three Harley Davidsons, tossed on an olive-green jacket, and took a deep breath before stepping out of her car.

She walked into the unassuming bar, scanning the room for her ex. She noticed three guys bellied up to the bar, all of whom turned to face her when the chime above the door rang. Seemingly disinterested in her presence, they all returned to their conversation. There was some honky tonk music playing from an old-fashioned jukebox in one corner, so she walked over to it as she waited for Alex to arrive.

As the minutes ticked on, Piper busied herself with choosing a new playlist and concentrated on her breathing. This was a big moment for her—for _them_ —and keeping her nerves in check required serious effort. She inserted a dollar and chose five songs by The Steve Miller Band, Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton. (There wasn't much of a selection that fit her musical taste.) The bell rang above the door, and in walked Alex, dressed in faded black jeans and a royal blue shirt peeking out of her leather jacket. Her hair was long and wavy, like she belonged in a shampoo commercial. The three men seated at the bar turned around again, and Piper heard one of them say, _damn_ , under his breath.

Alex adjusted her glasses as she scanned the room until she found Piper standing in front of the jukebox. A small smile formed on the brunette's face as she sauntered over.

Piper's pulse increased and her palms sweat as she took a good look at the woman in front of her. "Hey," she said casually.

" _The Joker_?" Alex commented as she recognized the first track. "Are you trying to send a subliminal message that you're the gangster of love?"

She scratched her head. "It was either that or Abracadabra. That song always makes me dizzy for some reason."

Alex let out a short chuckle. "Where's your drink?"

"It's four in the afternoon," Piper replied with a furrowed brow.

"So?" She walked up to the bar and greeted the guests. "Gentlemen."

"Hello there," one man said, as the other two looked her up and down.

Piper stayed back, eyes drawn to her ass. She understood firsthand what the bikers were admiring.

"What are you drinking?" The same man asked.

She jutted her head to the side, indicating that she was with Piper. "We're going to have shots of tequila and a couple of beers."

"Allow us," the man said as he waved at the bartender.

Alex smirked. "Next one's on me."

"We couldn't let you do that, ma'am."

"Wow, thanks." She grabbed the drinks and headed to a table far away.

Piper met her halfway and took the frosty beer mugs. "Made some new friends?"

"Just making sure they didn't recognize us." She grinned.

The blonde recalled in an instant how protective and aware Alex had always been.

The women sat down, and Alex flung her hair over one shoulder. The blonde took a deep breath, relishing in the tropical scent.

"Before we get bogged down in our own fucking drama…" Alex said, raising one tequila shot. "To new adventures."

Piper clinked her glass against Alex's and threw the shot back. She blanched at the strength of the three-ounce pour and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

Alex didn't flinch. "Want another?"

"God, no." The blonde took a swig of the beer chaser. "Fuck, I haven't done shots in a long time."

"You used to love them." She smiled.

"Yeah, when I was 22."

 _Crazy,_ which happened to be the only Patsy Cline song that Piper was familiar with, played through the jukebox speakers.

"So, Piper," the brunette said in a husky voice, placing her elbows on the table. "Why'd you need to see me so _urgently_?"

"I didn't mean for it to come off that way." She shrugged. "I just..."

Alex blinked. "Needed to see me."

The blonde nodded, shoving a chunk of hair behind her ear. "I'm still pissed at you."

"I know." Alex seemed to try to hide a grin. "Yet here we sit…"

"I saw the video, and…" Piper inhaled deeply through her nose and looked out of the window. Even after all the years that had gone by, Alex was still confident and mysterious and intriguing. "It brought back such an _intoxicating_ memory."

She leaned back in the wooden chair, smirk dancing on her face. "Do you remember what I said to make you laugh by the firepit that night?"

A bashful smile played at the corners of her mouth. "You asked if you could make me your human S'mores and drizzle melted marshmallows and chocolate all over my body."

Alex let out a small laugh. "God, we were cheesy!"

"We were." Piper's face broke into a shy smile.

The brunette's face sobered. "But so fucking in love."

She rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, suddenly feeling warm. "That, too."

Alex took a long drag of beer, and then stood. She walked to the bar and returned with two more shots and two beers. "Since it seems like we're taking the conversation into unchartered territory…"

Piper knew exactly what she meant—this was _The Talk_ —the one that had the potential to make or break them for good. It would be easier with copious amounts of alcohol.

The blonde raised her glass, clinking it against her companion's. "To remembering the good times."

"Cheers to that."

Piper's reaction after the shot went down her throat was the same as her earlier one. " _Fuck_."

Alex grinned. "I always liked the way that word sounded coming out of your mouth."

"Not when I was directing it at you in particularly shitty times." She twirled the frosty mug around on the table.

"No, not then." Alex took a swig of beer. "But other times when it was far less violent or when it involved _actual_ fucking."

Piper couldn't help the snort that escaped.

Alex pushed her mug aside and reached for the blonde's hand. Piper was startled at the bold move but made no attempt to pull away. Alex stared at their joined hands and rubbed her thumb across Piper's knuckles. "When we were doing the interview with Oprah, you said that you never expected a sincere apology."

The blonde swallowed the knot in her throat.

Alex looked into her eyes. "I am deeply sorry for naming you, Piper. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't have done that." She paused, and Piper's expression remained neutral. "Even after all that time had passed, I was still pissed at you for leaving, so I told the feds about your involvement."

Piper looked away. She could never bring herself to look into Alex's hazel eyes when she had something painful to say. Piper couldn't count the number of times she'd thought about apologizing to Alex for leaving that day.

Rather than tackle the emotions she felt at hearing Alex apologize, she changed the subject, "I went to your mom's funeral, you know."

"No, you didn't." Alex released the blonde's hand and creased her forehead. "Why would you say that?"

"I did." The absence of her ex-lover's hand felt like a blanket being removed from her body on a snowy day. "I drove to the cemetery, but there was an accident on the freeway, and I got there after the burial. I stayed in the car and watched you walk through the iron gate and get into Fahri's car. That was it—that was the moment I knew we couldn't be together."

Alex slowly leaned back, open hands dragging on the table. She took a long breath and appeared deep in thought. "I wish you would've gotten out of the car."

She shook her head. "It wouldn't have changed anything."

"It might've." Alex pushed her eyeglasses to the top of her head. "I was so fucking lost after you left. I starting using pretty heavily and had to go to rehab. Kubra even paid for it." She let out a self-effacing laugh.

"I had no idea." Piper felt her eyes droop. "I'm sorry you went through that alone."

She looked away, and Piper wondered if her ex-girlfriend had tears in her eyes. "I always prided myself on not needing anyone, being fiercely independent, you know?" The brunette swung her head around and glanced at Piper. "But I needed you so badly."

It was such a rarity to see Alex let her guard down, and Piper could count on one hand the number of times when her ex-girlfriend appeared vulnerable. Hearing the hitch in Alex's voice made the blonde instantly recall the moment she left Alex in Paris.

She grabbed Alex's hand, needing that connection, and unconsciously made gentle circles over the soft flesh. "You understand why I left, right?"

Using her free hand, Alex wiped a stray tear from under her glasses. "Yeah, I guess."

"My timing couldn't have been any worse, and even in the times when I hated you most, I've always regretted leaving on that particular day."

The dark haired woman squeezed Piper's hand. "Thank you." She brought her other hand to rest on top of both of Piper's and silence descended upon them.

The only thought running through Piper's head at that moment was that they'd _finally_ apologized for being selfish. Somehow, she thought, they could now get beyond all of the hurt and guilt that had been stored internally for years.

The brunette sniffed as a smile attempted to crack on her face. "Was that so hard?"

As Alex's smile surfaced, it was like watching the sun rise over a snow-capped mountain. The way it lit up the room caused a couple of tears to sneak down Piper's cheeks, and she let them fall unchecked. It felt too good to have both of her hands surrounded by Alex's so she didn't dare remove them.

"I guess not." Piper sniffled. "But I can't say that I was ready to apologize or accept _your_ apology until today. I was riddled with guilt and a _strong_ dislike of you."

The brunette lifted one well-manicured eyebrow. "Feeling was mutual."

Piper looked down at their joined hands, and Alex flexed her right one slightly, allowing Piper to entwine their fingers. Their hands turned over and sideways several times, almost like they were rediscovering what it meant to be connected, and the women kept their eyes on their rather instinctual motions. It felt so natural to touch Alex, and Piper almost said as much, but when she looked into the other woman's eyes, she knew she didn't have to say a thing. They smiled softly at each other before letting go.

"So what happens next?" Piper asked, feeling naked without her ex-lover's hands covering her own.

"It depends on your answer to a critical question." Alex leaned forward and Piper gulped, preparing herself for an even more difficult conversation. "Darts or pool?"

That wasn't _at all_ what the blonde expected, but she was grateful for the lightness of her question.

She bit her lower lip. "I wouldn't mind throwing things, so let's go with darts."

Alex ordered another round of shots, while Piper put another $2 in the jukebox. The Eagles came on, and they toasted wordlessly as each woman downed their third tequila shot. Alex handed her a stack of green-tipped darts and kept the red ones for herself. They silently practiced until the brunette announced it was time to keep score.

"Are you staying in New York?" Piper asked, bending her elbow and lining up a dart.

"Yeah." She sipped her beer. "The Bronx for now, so not too far away from this place. It's a shitty little studio, but I have to rebuild my empire."

Piper shot her a sidelong glance and saw a proud grin on Alex's face. She threw the dart, and it landed on one of the inner circles, but not close to the bullseye.

The blonde stepped aside, giving her ex the opportunity to toss a dart. "How exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"Riding your coattails a little while longer." Her dart landed in the outermost circle.

"You're as good at darts as you were at skiing."

She checked Piper in the ribs with an elbow. "I'm just getting warmed up."

"Ow!" The blonde aimed again, hitting near her first shot. "So I'm basically responsible for your income?"

She sipped her beer before flinging another dart. "You could look at it that way, or you could look at it my way."

"Which is?"

"I named you, you went to prison, got out and started your Yuppie life, and then wrote a book that has made you a virtual millionaire overnight." Her dart landed in the sliver of red under the 18—not an easy task.

Piper giggled, suddenly feeling more than a little tipsy. "I'm hardly a millionaire."

"You're making bank, Pipes. Don't lie." She drained her lager.

She felt goosebumps form on her arms at the way her nickname sounded coming out of Alex's mouth. "I've made a decent income, yes, but the money won't always flow like this." She closed one eye, as if that would improve her aim, and threw another dart. It hit the board at an awkward angle, and then fell to the floor. "Damn it."

Alex wrote down their score, and then pulled all of the darts out of the board. "What are you going to do when sales slow down?"

"I've started doing some research with the Women's Prison Association, plus I'm doing a lecture series at colleges and universities all over the country. I'll probably continue to help John Legend with his Free America campaign over the next six months." She accepted the darts from her companion.

"Sounds like you have it all figured out." Alex threw first this time.

"For the immediate future, I guess." Piper aimed at the dart board again, but as the alcohol settled into her system, her skills deteriorated rapidly.

Alex kept her eyes trained on the board. "I heard you're engaged."

Piper gulped the beer down so hard that it hurt her throat. She didn't want to talk about Larry—not the night when they were finally reconnecting. "I am."

"So, you went back to boys?" Alex grabbed the mug from Piper's hand and finished it for her.

"Hey, that was mine!" The blonde pouted.

She stepped into Piper's personal space, and the blonde could smell the familiar perfume that she associated only with Alex. "I'll buy you another one."

Piper looked up. "It was never about gender, Alex. You know that."

"It's all about where the heart goes, right?" Alex replied in a throaty voice.

Piper nodded, chin craned to get a better look at her former lover. She never thought she'd see Alex this up-close and personal again. She reached up, tracing her jawbone with a fingertip.

"Don't do that," Alex whispered, gently wrapping her fingers around Piper's wrist.

"Why not?"

"Because it's going to lead us down a road you'll regret." She punctuated her sentence with raised eyebrows.

Dolly Parton sang _Here You Come Again_ , and Piper ignored Alex's request by sloppily stringing her arms around the brunette's neck and swaying side to side in what some might call a dance. Piper closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of Alex's shoulder under her cheek and the smell of her hair mixed with perfume. Alex's hand glided up the blonde's back, which only prompted Piper to snuggle closer. Her senses were on overdrive, and while she knew she shouldn't be doing that, she justified it by saying that it was just like a hug.

"This is too easy to slip back into," Alex whispered.

Piper looked her in the eyes, then at her lips, then back into her eyes. "It is." It took every muscle in her body to pull away, but she did.

The brunette gave her a tight-lipped smile. "We should probably head out."

"Yeah." She looked down and scratched her head as if waking from a dream. "Larry is going to wonder where I am."

"Right." Alex pulled on her jacket and helped Piper into hers. "I don't think you should drive right now. Why don't you take the Subway, and you can get your car tomorrow?"

"That's probably a good idea." She hooked her purse over one shoulder. "Walk me to the station?"

The women made their way out of the bar, Alex holding the door open for her before finding her stride next to the blonde. Piper's hand hit her ex-girlfriend's twice until she linked their pinkies together. Alex smiled down at her, allowing Piper to take the lead on any physical connection.

"It was good seeing you again without all the cameras and stuff." The blonde let go of her hand as they made their way onto the platform.

"You, too." Alex tucked a strand of Piper's hair behind one ear as they stood far too close to each other for anyone to mistake them as _just friends_. "Maybe we can do this every once in a while—that is, if you're not too famous for me."

"You're the one whose picture is all over the Internet!" Piper complained with little shove.

She shrugged. "I can't help it if the public prefers brunettes over blondes."

The train pulled up, and Alex took a step back. "Separate cars?"

"Yeah," she said with regret laced in her voice.

"Bye, Piper."


	7. Chapter 7

Although the print and television interviews were all but over, the Internet was still abuzz with questions about Alex and Piper's relationship. A few more photographs surfaced, but Alex wasn't the person who provided them. It had to have been someone low on the totem pole in the cartel, but neither Alex nor Piper put too much thought into who the culprit might be. The pictures weren't provocative whatsoever, so the only thing out there that still carried considerable weight was the firepit video. The last time Blair reported the number of hits, it was in the 400,000 range.

No matter what she did or where she went, Piper couldn't erase Alex from her mind. Unlike months earlier when her only memories focused on their travels together, now Piper had memories from a week ago when they'd met at The Mill. After that day, the women texted once or twice, and then every other day, and by early December, every single day. The texts ranged from a simple _Good morning_ to _Have you checked out Barbara McBride's new book about liberation philosophy_? (A topic they'd discussed ad nauseum during their travels.) She couldn't tell Larry about their communication, and things between Piper and her fiancé had deteriorated even more.

It had gotten to a point where Piper offered to move out due to the strain between them, but Larry didn't want that. The plan was for Piper to take a break from everything related to her memoir and spend a week with her fiancé in the Berkshires over Christmas. If that vacation had any chance of proving fruitful, she had a lot to figure out by then.

Right after a meeting she had with a New York senator, Piper glanced at her phone and saw a text from Alex. "Miss seeing your face since you're not in the spotlight every day."

Piper bit her lower lip and blushed. "Google me."

"Is that all you want me to do to you?"

The blonde suddenly felt wetness pool between her legs. Their texts up until that point had been benign, so this one was a bombshell. Piper had to play this right, so she hopped on the Subway and allowed herself some time to think before texting back. She typed three responses, and then deleted all of them, finally settling on the truth without elaboration. " _No_."

Alex texted back seconds later. "Meet me at the North Street Tavern in New Rochelle."

Piper got off at the next Subway stop, checked the map, and boarded the Green Line in the other direction. She chose not to text Alex back; instead, she'd show up, and if the brunette was there, she was there. If Alex wasn't at the bar, Piper would have one drink, and then return home—no harm, no foul.

There was a light dusting of snow on the ground as she walked the two blocks from the Subway station to the tavern. With every step, her pulse quickened, and she had to admit to herself that she _wanted_ Alex to be there. Seeing her a month earlier was like eating one piece of popcorn when the bag of hot, buttery kernels was sitting right in front of her.

The North Street Tavern resembled the last place they'd met—there were a few more cars in the parking lot and only one motorcycle. (That probably had more to do with the weather than the type of establishment.) Piper walked in as _The Tide is High_ played through a speaker, and she immediately spotted Alex nursing a cocktail at the bar. She seemed to be making small talk with the bartender.

"Hi."

Alex swiveled around on the barstool. "You made it."

"Weather's not too bad yet." She stepped closer, and Alex reached out, hooking her finger through Piper's belt loop, tugging her closer until the blonde's thighs touched Alex's knees. Her mind instantly went to the firepit video when Alex had done the same gesture.

Piper lowered her right hand, fingertips briefly tickling Alex's jean-clad thigh before dropping to her side.

"Cocktail?"

The blonde glanced at the rocks glass in Alex's other hand. "What are you having?"

"Bourbon." She unhooked her finger from the belt loop and swiveled to the side, indicating with a quick nod for Piper to take the stool next to hers.

"I'll have a gin and tonic."

The brunette took a swig of Bourbon. "Why is it that you drink summer cocktails in the winter?"

"I didn't know there were cocktail seasons." She hung her purse on a hook under the counter.

"There are." Alex raised her eyebrows as a grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "The day we met in the dead of winter, you ordered a margarita, and now a gin and tonic? Those are _definitely_ summer drinks."

"You remember what I ordered when we met?" Piper asked.

"Of course, I do." She put a hand on the blonde's thigh. "I remember everything about that night."

Piper tensed at the touch, but she didn't ask Alex to remove her hand. In fact, _it felt good_.

The women were seated at the end of the bar in a dimly lit area. The other patrons were either at tables in the far corner of the tavern or at the other end of the bar. There didn't appear to be a jukebox, but Springsteen was now playing through a speaker to her right.

Alex ordered a gin and tonic from the burly bartender. "How was your day?"

"Not bad. I'm helping Senator Sweeny write some prison reform legislation, which is pretty awesome." She accepted the drink, and then tapped her glass against Alex's.

"To seeing each other again," the brunette said.

"Cheers." Piper took a sip of her cocktail.

"Meeting with a senator is big time, Pipes. I hope you can actually make a difference." She patted the blonde's thigh, hand remaining just above her knee.

"Me, too." She took another sip. "How was _your_ day?"

"Pretty good." She rubbed Piper's thigh with the faintest touch. "I'm doing some work for the Human Rights Campaign that I'm hoping will turn into something permanent."

"Aren't they in DC?" Worry suddenly crept into Piper's mind as she thought about Alex possibly relocating.

Alex took a swill of Bourbon and removed her hand from the other woman's leg. Piper missed the touch the second it was gone. "Yeah, but they're partnering with the PRIDE Study, plus they're updating the US code to reflect marriage equality. That stuff is taking place in DC, New York, and maybe Atlanta."

Relieved, Piper took a chance and placed her hand on Alex's knee.

The dark haired woman grinned her approval. "I ran into someone the other day you might remember."

"Who?" Her hand remained firmly in place, but she hadn't yet worked up the nerve to move it.

"You remember Nicky Nichols? She was with the cartel for a hot second before her mom sent her to rehab." Alex signaled to the bartender that they wanted another round.

"Of course, I remember her!" Piper's hand stayed still, but she moved her thumb back and forth on Alex's leg. "We hung out for the first month or so when I traveled with you. How's she doing?"

"Good," Alex replied. "She's a trust fund kid, so she never really had to work. She's been sober for like ten years."

"That's great to hear."

Their drinks arrived, and Piper took her hand off of Alex's knee to brush her own hair out of her face.

Alex smiled around her rocks glass. "This bar reminds me of the one where you went down on me for the first time."

" _Alex_!" She shaded her eyes with one hand embarrassed by her ex-lover's observation.

"What?" Alex pulled Piper's hand away from her face, wrapping her fist around the blonde's index finger and holding on to it. "It was dangerous and exhilarating. You loved every minute of it."

She could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks. " _You_ loved every minute of it." Piper tugged her finger out of Alex's grasp, only to twist their hands together.

Alex lifted one eyebrow. "What _wasn't_ there to like about your tongue in my pussy?"

The word _pussy_ nearly made Piper come undone. Sex had entered her brain over the past month, but never to the extent of visualizing giving oral sex to Alex so unmistakably. She swallowed hard and averted her eyes.

"Were you ever with another woman?" Alex asked without losing a beat.

"No, only you." The blonde took a drink out of the thin, black straw.

A small laugh caught in Alex's throat. "Damn, I was hoping to have someone to compete with."

Piper set her drink on the bar, placing her free hand on Alex's thigh and looking her in the eye. "No onecould ever compete with you when it comes to sex."

Alex leaned forward enough for Piper to smell the sweet whiskey on her breath. In that instant, Piper remembered how Alex tasted after she drank Bourbon and yearned for the syrupy mixture in her own mouth. The women stared at each other, and Piper didn't know whether to concentrate on Alex's eyes or her mouth, so her gaze kept shifting from one to the other. The electricity between them had always been palpable, and in that moment, it was undeniable. If she just leaned forward a few inches, their lips would meet.

Piper took a deep breath and pulled back. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Alex straightened her posture. "Want to order some tater tots or something?"

"I haven't had tater tots since I was, like, 18." She smiled. "Sure. With Ranch dressing."

"Gross."

Piper went into the single stall bathroom and collapsed against the closed door with her eyes squeezed shut. She'd already taken things too far, but she couldn't stop herself. She'd never been able to resist Alex, and she knew the only way that would happen was if they didn't see each other. But that wasn't what she wanted.

"Tater tots are on their way." Alex announced as Piper returned to her seat.

She looked down as she sat on the stool. "We shouldn't be touching like we have been."

"I've been letting you take the lead, Piper," Alex shoved her glasses higher on her nose. "So if you don't want me to touch you, you can't put things out there like you have been."

"I know; you're right." Piper removed the skinny straw and took a big swig directly from her glass. "It's just…when it comes to you…" She gulped. "When it comes to us, _it's so fucking hard_."

The dark haired woman gave her a knowing look.

"I wanted you from the second I saw you, Alex."

She straightened her back and rubbed her hands on her own thighs. "You _definitely_ can't say things like that."

"I just want you to know how you made me feel… how you _make_ me feel." Piper's head was spinning, partly from the booze, and partly because of Alex's mere presence.

"I need to get some air." Alex hopped off the bar stool, threw her jacket over her shoulders and marched towards the back door, thrusting it open with one, firm push.

Piper put her head in her hands as the bartender slid a red basket of tater tots towards her. She thought about her words and her actions, afraid that she was fucking up everything in her personal life. If there were no ethical consequences, she'd fuck Alex until the sun came up and then go on her merry way, wondering when would be the next time they could go at it again. But there were consequences to her actions, and she wouldn't allow that to happen—not while she was still living with Larry.

She put on her coat and looked out the small window next to the back door. The snow was coming down at a decent clip, but Piper walked outside anyway, spotting Alex pacing in the snow-covered back lot with a gray beanie on her head.

"Maybe I should just leave," the blonde announced, buttoning her coat.

"We can't do this, Piper." Alex shoved her hands into her pockets. "We can't flirt and pretend that it's innocent—it's never going to be innocent with us."

The words stung, but Alex was right. Piper kicked a clump of snow a few times, hoping that physical exertion would let out some of her frustration.

When the blonde looked up, Alex seemed to be ruminating on words that wouldn't come out. Finally, the dark haired woman spoke. "It would be _so fucking easy_ to fall back in love with you."

Piper's eyes widened, and she was stunned by Alex's statement. She blinked a few times and swallowed hard. When Piper didn't reply, Alex turned and walked away.

She couldn't stand another minute of this. Piper took five giant steps towards her, put a hand on her shoulder, effectively spinning her around, and smashed her lips against Alex's fuller ones. The dark haired woman didn't react at first—she seemed too astonished to move her mouth, but it took a matter of seconds before the kiss intensified and hands searched for purchase. One of Alex's landed on Piper's ass, the other on her upper arm. Piper held Alex's face between both of her hands as she tilted her head to get a better angle. Piper didn't know whose tongue begged for entrance first, but before she knew it, they were French kissing in the back of a dive bar, feeling more like teenagers than women in their mid-30s.

Piper pulled back, resting her forehead against Alex's. Both women sucked in breath and blew out puffs of cold air.

"I know, and it scares the crap out of me," Piper whispered, eyes still shut.

Alex kissed her far more gently this time. Piper broke the kiss and hugged her ex-girlfriend, wishing there wasn't so many layers of clothing between them.

The brunette rubbed her back. "I think we're talking about something that has already happened, whether we wanted it to or not."

Piper nodded against her shoulder, afraid of what Alex meant—they were falling in love… _again_.

"How did this happen?" the blonde asked, placing a kiss on Alex's neck, savoring the way her skin tasted.

Alex chuckled. "I don't know. Sometimes you can't control where the heart goes."

"You're fond of that statement." She smiled.

"It's kind of my tagline when it comes to you."

The women stood there holding each other silently in the cold when they should've been shivering from the frigid temperature.

"Please don't ask where this leaves us," Alex pleaded.

"I won't—not tonight anyway." The blonde kissed her softly on the lips. "I have some stuff to figure out—a lot of stuff actually."

"Yeah, you do." The brunette ran her hand down Piper's arm until their fingers linked, and she tugged Piper towards the back door. "I'm sure our tater tots are cold by now."

"There's nothing worse than cold, processed potatoes." She let out a small laugh.

Just before they re-entered the bar, Piper stopped walking, causing Alex to spin around to face her.

"I can't have sex with you," the blonde said out of nowhere.

"Um, ok. Why?"

Piper looked down. "Because I won't do that to Larry."

"We just made out for like 15 minutes, freezing our asses off in the snow, and _now_ you're concerned about Larry?"

She shrugged. "My moral compass only gets me so far."

Alex nudged her glasses. "It could use a serious tune up."

"Before we take this any further, I want to know more about you, Alex. Tell me what happened after I left Paris. What was prison like for you?" She pulled the door open and followed the brunette inside. "Let's eat our cold tater tots and catch up. Sex will have to wait."

"You're killing me, Chapman."

The women did exactly that, only they ordered a new round of tots and two burgers. Piper switched to light beer, while Alex stayed with Bourbon. (Piper had confessed that she loved the way Alex tasted when she drank Kentucky Bourbon, and the brunette didn't argue.) They kept their hands to themselves (mostly) as the bar became more crowded after 9 p.m.

Alex elaborated on the stuff she'd already told Piper about the dark months following Piper's departure from Paris, and she described what rehab was like. Piper told her how she met Larry and how long they'd been together, but she didn't spend much time talking about him.

"Were you in any relationships over the years?" They'd long since finished their food, and Piper was nursing her third beer.

"A couple, actually." She grinned.

"Huh."

"There was one woman I met in rehab, so we were sort of in it together, you know?" Alex took a sip of her drink. "Her name was Violet. Coincidentally, she had purple-tipped hair."

Piper didn't like where this was going.

"We were together the duration of my time there, which was 90 days, so I guess that counts as a relationship."

Piper folded her arms. "Yeah, I guess."

"Then there was Yasmin—she'd joined the cartel in my absence." The brunette held the rim of her glass with her fingertips over the lip and swirled the brown liquid. "She was this Turkish poet who needed to make money so she could support herself and still follow her passion. She could write some fucking prose."

The blonde pursed her lips. "I might not write poetry, but I'm a good writer nonetheless."

Alex ignored her, which drove the blonde crazy. "She was tall, dark, exotic and had a killer smile."

Piper swiveled her stool until she was completely facing the bar, head turned a bit to pay attention to Alex's former romantic life with a serious grudge.

"Yasmin and I hit it off like that." Alex snapped her fingers. "She'd read me poetry at night, and we'd go for long walks together in the morning. The best part was that she didn't use, so she was good for me in that sense, too."

"I hate her." Piper pouted.

"Are you jealous?" The dark haired woman laughed. "You are!"

"I am not." She turned even further away.

Alex forced the other woman's stool to swivel towards her, and then put her hands on Piper's thighs, gripping them tightly so she could pull herself closer. Once she was in position, she raised one hand to Piper's chin, ensuring that their eyes met. "Yasmin was good company and a good fuck, but she was no Piper Chapman."

"You're just saying that."

"Would it help if I told you that I pictured you when I had sex with those other women?" She caressed Piper's cheek.

"That's not true."

"Not every single time, but most of the time, yeah."

She wrapped her fingers around Alex's wrist. "Really?"

"Really." Alex leaned in to kiss her first on the nose, and then on the mouth.

Piper moaned into the kiss, but the brunette pulled away.

"There's been no one like you, Piper—at least not for me. _Ever_ ," she whispered.

She looked at her companion with desperate eyes. "You mean that?"

"Yeah."

This time, Piper leaned in for a kiss, damn whoever might've been watching them.

* * *

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter when they _finally_ locked lips. Please let me know.


	8. Chapter 8

FYI: There are 10 chapters total, and the last one is very short. Thanks for the feedback so far!

* * *

On her way back to her apartment that night, Piper was positively giddy. It wasn't until she put her key in the door when she got a sinking feeling before entering her own home. She hoped that Larry wasn't there or that he'd decided to spend the night in their guest bedroom. She felt guilty for not wanting to sleep in the same bed with him, but after the night she'd had with Alex, there was no way she could touch or be touched by her fiancé.

There was also no way she'd inform Larry about the two times she'd seen Alex, or the number of texts they'd exchanged, or the fact that she was falling in love with her ex-girlfriend who'd sent her to prison. That was too much for anyone to handle all at once. Piper decided to spend the next week thinking about her feelings as well as her options. Maybe what she and Alex felt for each other was only temporary nostalgia (though she doubted it.) If that was the case, she didn't want to ruin what was a potentially good thing with Larry. Of course, she didn't want to use the man either, so she knew difficult decisions would have to be made in the near future.

She walked upstairs and was relieved to find Larry fast asleep in the spare room. She didn't wake him to announce that she was home; instead, Piper padded into her room and texted Alex at 2:45 a.m. "Tonight was..."

A few minutes later, Alex texted back: "Yeah, it was" with a winking emoji.

* * *

Piper had a spring in her step over the next few days, but she needed to tell Polly and Blair about her relationship with Alex. She knew it would be a shock for both of them, so she decided to tell them together one night when they were all liquored up. Blair had become a friend more than a publicist, but she still took her job seriously. Blair and Polly worked in Manhattan a couple of blocks from one another, so the two of them had lunch once a week and also became close friends.

Larry was invited to a bachelor party in Atlantic City the following weekend, so Piper invited the women to her house for Indian food and Christmas cheer. She and Larry hadn't put up a Christmas tree that December, but Piper had strung white lights in the living room windows. She had a few poinsettias and pine-scented candles strewn about the room, too, but that was the extent of her holiday decorating.

Blair showed up first, two bottles of wine tucked under each arm. They were able to talk about work for ten minutes before Polly arrived, but there were very few requests for interviews about her memoir since the book had been out for six months. Polly brought crème brulee and a bottle of Port, not knowing that was Blair's favorite combination.

The women ate green curry and beef vindaloo while Christmas music played in the background. After Polly finished telling them about the horrible business trip she'd recently returned from, Piper opened the third bottle of wine and the women retreated to the living room where _It's a Wonderful Life_ was on television.

Piper muted the TV and took a deep breath. "There's been a recent development that I need to share with you." She poured a generous amount of Pinot Noir into each woman's glass. "And it's a pretty big deal."

"Did you decide to write a follow up book?" Polly asked after thanking her for the eight ounce pour.

"What would the title be?" Blair asked with a smirk. " _Piper and Alex: The Good Times_? That seems to be the only thing the public has any interest in now anyway."

"Well…" she trailed off.

Blair whipped her head around. "I was only kidding. I don't think you should write a book about that."

"Maybe an article for a gay magazine," Polly offered.

"Yeah," Blair agreed.

"I'm not writing a book about me and Alex." Piper sat on the edge of an armchair. "At least not a physical one."

The women looked puzzled.

"I saw her…" She grasped the stem of her wine glass so hard, she thought it might break. "I saw Alex privately. Well, we weren't technically alone, we were in a bar both times."

Polly creased her forehead. "On purpose?"

"Yes, on purpose." She refrained from rolling her eyes.

" _Both_ times?" Polly asked, still seemingly confused.

"Did I miss a memo or something?" Blair angled her entire body towards Piper. "You told me that you'd do the Oprah interview on the condition that you never had to see her again."

"Yeah, that was…" Piper looked at her lap, and then back up at them. "We had some stuff to sort out, and I didn't want to do that on television or in some newspaper or magazine article."

The blonde could see the wheels turning in her publicist's head. "So you met her…at a _bar_?"

She nodded. "Yes, twice."

"I don't understand," Polly said with a firm head shake. "You hate Alex. Why would you give her the satisfaction of apologizing or doing whatever the fuck she wanted to do?"

"I needed to apologize to her." Piper took a sip of wine, and then set her glass on the side table. "We had unfinished business—so much was left unsaid over the years."

" _You_ needed to apologize to _her_?" Polly raised her eyebrows.

"Yes," Piper replied firmly, becoming more agitated by her friend's unyielding attitude.

Blair leaned forward, cradling the bulb of her wine glass with both hands. "I don't think it was a good idea to see her."

"That's why I didn't preemptively tell you." The blonde tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Maybe it _was_ a horrible idea, but I needed to see her without having some prescribed reason."

"Well? How did it go?" Polly asked almost sarcastically.

"That depends on how you look at it." Piper took a deep breath through her nose. "We, um, definitely laid our feelings out and apologized to each other…And then we might've _demonstrated_ our feelings."

"No, fucking way!"

"What the...?"

Piper's eyes darted between the two women.

"You _kissed_?" Polly asked, eyebrows nearly touching her hairline.

"We did." A grin played at the corners of Piper's mouth.

The brunette crossed her arms. "Please tell me it wasn't anything more than that."

Piper's smile faded. "It wasn't; not that it's any of your business."

"How in the hell did that happen?" Blair stood. "I thought you loathed Alex?"

"There's that saying about a thin line between love and hate." She looked at her publicist. "I wanted to hate her, and maybe I did after she named me and when I was in prison, but I don't know if I ever stopped loving her." She glanced at Polly. " _Ever_."

"Wait, you _love_ her?" Polly asked.

"Yeah, I do." The tightness in her shoulders lessened a bit now that it was all out there. "And she loves me."

"Holy mother of God." Blair put a hand on her forehead. "Never in a million years would I have predicted this. It's rare that I'm at a loss for words, but…"

"Piper, this is not good." Polly set her glass on the coffee table. "You already went this route, and look at what happened. _You went to jail because of her_!"

"Prison," the blonde replied instinctively, leaning back in her chair. "And I made a lot of money because of her."

"You're not considering actually _being with Alex_? Like, as a couple?" Polly questioned.

"Yeah, I am. At least, that's what I want." She looked at Blair with nervousness. "I need your help with this."

"What about Larry—your fiancé?!" Polly continued with vehemence.

Piper looked down, feeling awful about what this would do to him. "I don't know how I'm going to do it, but we obviously need to break up."

"Ya think?" Polly grabbed her wine again and took a long swig.

"Ok, listen!" Blair sliced her hands through the air. "I'm going to tackle this first as your publicist, and then as your friend."

Piper leaned forward again, ready to hang on Blair's every word. "You met Alex in a bar. Where and when?"

"The first time was about a month ago in Riverdale at a place called The Mill," she began, nervousness creeping back into her tone.

"A month ago?" Polly asked. "And you're only filling me in now?"

"Respectfully, Polly, I need you to _shut up_ so I can handle this." Blair dug in her purse for a notebook and a pen.

"Do you remember how many people were in the bar?"

"Three biker guys, plus the bartender. That's all."

Blair scribbled things down in her notebook. "And the second meeting?"

"Four days ago at The North Street Tavern in New Rochelle." Piper stood and retrieved the wine bottle from the mantle. "There were more people in that place—three women at a table, I think, and a couple of guys at the bar."

"Do you remember if any of them looked at you funny—recognized you?"

"I don't think so," she said. "But I wasn't interested in anyone other than Alex."

"Uh huh." The publicist jotted something down. "Tell me about each encounter, and do not leave a single detail out."

Polly rolled her eyes. "You can leave out the part about your tongue in Alex's mouth."

Both women scowled at her.

Piper told her story to the women, and Polly was clearly the more shocked of the two—she'd been through this with her friend many years ago and had been protective of Piper ever since.

"I need you to prepare yourself for a possible photo or video that could be leaked through social media." Blair clicked her pen. "From a publicity standpoint, candids can be a dream come true. From a relationship standpoint, this could be a nightmare for you and Larry."

"I know." Piper closed her eyes. "I don't want to hurt him."

"Too late for that," Polly commented.

She opened her eyes and shot her friend a death glare.

"I would advise you to tell your fiancé about this immediately, so he's not blindsided if something gets out."

"What if no one took a picture? I don't want to tell him about me and Alex this way." Piper held the wine bottle against her chest as if she was holding onto a life raft.

Blair gave her a pointed look. "I know it'll be a difficult conversation, but you _need_ to have it. You do _not_ want him to find out on his own."

She glanced at a photo of the two of them in a frame on the mantle. "Maybe I'll wait until he comes home on Sunday."

"Suit yourself." Blair closed her notebook. "If something gets leaked, we'll need a response. If you're in touch with Alex, she'll need to tell Kennedy about this. If the two of you want to respond together, we can approach it that way."

"I'm in touch with Alex," Piper said, not able to help the smile that lit up her face. She bit her lower lip to try to suppress it.

Polly rolled her eyes. "Gross."

The publicist grabbed her phone and touched the screen. "Have you checked your hashtag?"

"My what?"

" _Vauseman_ —your hashtag on Twitter," Blair looked up at her. "You know about that, right?"

"Uh, no." Piper stepped to her left to look over Blair's shoulder.

There seemed to be thousands of posts under _#Vauseman_ , and the blonde turned pale. "What in the fuck is this?"

"It popped up months ago. I _told_ you to use your Twitter account."

"I hate social media; you know that." Piper pushed her long sleeves up as Blair scrolled through the most recent posts. "All of these people want us to be a couple?"

"There doesn't seem to be anything relating to your little outing." Blair set her phone down, ignoring Piper's question.

Polly raised her hand. "Let it be stated that I _do not_ want the two of you together."

"We got that, thanks," Blair said. She turned back to the blonde. "If nothing gets leaked over the next day or two, we're probably in the clear, but you and I need to discuss how you want to handle a breakup with Larry and a possible relationship with Alex."

Piper nodded.

"Is it your intention to be in a full-fledged relationship with her?" Blair asked.

She glanced sideways at Polly. "Yes."

The brunette shook her head as she swallowed a mouthful of Pinot.

"The media _will_ find out, Piper, so do you want to be proactive or reactive about this?"

She returned to the armchair. "I don't know. What do you think is best?"

"If you want to remain in the media, possibly drum up sales for the memoir again, then I'd suggest that we position you to get caught together. The public loves when they think they're in on a secret." Blair took a sip of wine. "If you don't care about that and just want the attention to spike for a week or so, and then die down considerably, you proactively make a statement about your relationship."

She scratched her head. "I'll have to check with Alex."

"I recommend having the conversation first thing tomorrow. As soon as you end the call with her, you call me. Understood?" Blair's stern voice left no room for argument.

Piper gulped. "Yes."

"Now that my professional hat is off…" The publicist let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "What the hell, Piper?" She grinned. "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"

"That's what I want to know." Polly topped off Blair's glass.

The blonde flung her head back, resting the top of her head against the cushion. "Probably not." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then returned her glance to the women. "But I can't shake her. It's like there's this electromagnetic force, luring us back together."

Blair swirled the wine in her glass.

"The way I feel when I'm with Alex…It's like my mind and my body come alive." She let out a long, content sigh. "I never thought I'd feel that way again."

"Puke." Polly sat on the sofa next to the publicist.

"May I make a suggestion?" Blair turned to Polly. "Let's allow Piper to make her own decisions and be happy for her. Things will not turn out like they did before. Piper's far too wise for that, and she has several years on her side that can only serve her well. What she experienced with Alex in her 20s will be vastly different this time around."

Piper was taken aback. "Thank you."

Blair turned her attention back to the blonde. "Maybe it's the wine talking, but somewhere deep inside, I wanted you to get back together."

"Seriously?" Piper lifted her hand to her heart.

"The chemistry between you is palpable." She shrugged. "You make a damn fine lesbian couple."

Piper blushed.

"I will do my best to be supportive, Piper, but I need a little time to let this sink in." Polly stood to hug her friend. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"I get it." She released the brunette. "Blair's right, this time will be completely different. Trust me."

Blair raised her glass for a toast. "To true love. May it find us all!"

"Here, here." Piper clinked both of their glasses with a lucky-in-love grin on her face.

* * *

Author's Note: This might've been my favorite chapter to write, though I'm guessing the last chapter was your favorite to read. ;-)


	9. Chapter 9

This chapter is rated Mature. Come back to read it when you're 18 if you're not that old yet.

* * *

The next morning, Piper woke up with a slight headache. She stretched in her bed, and then grabbed her phone to see a text from Alex at 6:04 a.m. _Good morning, babe_.

The blonde smiled and began a text, but decided to call instead.

"Hi," Alex answered.

"Morning," Piper replied.

"Is it possible to hear a smile over the phone?"

"Yours or mine?" she asked.

"I'm confident mine is wider than yours," Alex admitted in a sweet voice.

"Impossible." Piper sat up in bed, propping herself up against the headboard.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Ok, I guess." She yawned. "I had Blair and Polly over for dinner last night. I told them about us."

She could hear the breath that escaped from Alex's mouth. "And?"

Piper relayed their conversation, and the women agreed that they should talk about how to proceed in person. Of course, both women knew that was simply a good excuse to be together. The blonde gave Alex her address, knowing that it would be the first time they'd be alone. She swore to herself that they wouldn't have sex—not in Larry's parents' house. If Piper had decided to meet at Alex's apartment, she was worried she'd break that promise.

The brunette showed up in yoga pants and a thin hoodie over her head. Piper almost ravaged her before she even stepped inside. The blonde tugged the strings hanging from the neck of the cotton pullover, forcing Alex to step inside.

"Hi," Piper said, before planting a kiss on her lover's lips.

Alex kicked one leg back to shut the door. "Hey," she replied against Piper's lips.

Piper changed the angle, slipping a tongue inside, and Alex spun them around slowly until the blonde was pinned against the door. Her hands rested on Piper's hips, fingertips slipping under her loose, gray t-shirt.

"Mmm mm." The blonde pushed her hands away. "Just this." And kissed her with both hands on either side of Alex's face.

After five minutes of leisurely kissing, the women rested their foreheads against each other.

"How am I supposed to _not_ have sex with you?"

"That's why I wanted you to come here," Piper whispered, lips almost touching Alex's. "There are little traces of Larry everywhere, and I need those around me to stop myself from fucking you senseless."

Alex grinded her pelvis against the blonde's. "Are you sure?"

She put her hands on Alex's shoulders and pushed her away. "Yes."

The brunette ran her hands through her hair and sighed. "You have a lot more willpower than I do."

"Trust me when I say, it's not easy." Piper walked over to the sofa, grabbing her lover's hand along the way. "Can I get you anything? Water? Juice? Coffee?"

"No, just you."

The blonde sat on the sofa first, and then pulled Alex's hand hard, showing her exactly where she wanted her. Alex climbed on top, kissing her way up Piper's neck.

They made out a few minutes more, Piper's hands resting on Alex's ass, until her phone buzzed. She reached for it without breaking the kiss, and when she saw the number, she broke contact.

"It's Blair; I should answer."

Alex scooted back, forcing Piper in front of her, both splayed out on the sofa like two spoons.

"Hi, Blair."

" _People_ has a photo," she replied without introduction.

"Oh, God." Piper hoisted herself off the sofa and quickly powered on her desktop computer. "We never should've met in public." She was wracked with guilt about Larry finding out about her and Alex before she had the chance to tell him herself.

Piper clicked a few buttons until the site was up. There on the screen in front of them was a photograph of her and Alex taken from behind as they'd walked to the Subway after meeting for the first time at The Mill. There was significant space between them, making their hand holding that much more prominent. Piper was smiling and her head was completely turned towards Alex, and the brunette was grinning down at her. It was more difficult to tell that it was Alex due to the angle, but if a person looked close enough, it was clear who the women were. The caption under the picture had only one word: _Ex_ - _Lovers?_

"Fuck," Alex commented from behind.

"This is all my fault," Piper said, worry etched on her face.

Alex stood next to her, hands on her hips.

"Is Alex with you?" Blair asked.

"Yes." She took another look at the picture. "What should I do?"

"She needs to call Kennedy immediately." There was rustling in the background. "Where are you?"

"At my house," the blonde replied, putting a hand over her forehead and closing her eyes.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes." With that, she hung up.

"Shit!" Piper clutched her cell phone to her chest. "I need to get in touch with Larry."

"No, not yet." Alex lifted her lover's chin with two fingers. "I'm going to call Kennedy, and Blair is coming over. Don't do anything until she arrives."

"I _knew_ someone would recognize us," the blonde sighed. "How could I have been so _stupid_?"

It looked like Alex was about to reply, but she thought better of it—there was nothing the brunette could say to make things better at that moment. Piper knew she was going to have to face the truth sooner than she'd wanted to.

* * *

Blair arrived 20 minutes after their phone call, and Kennedy got to the apartment 30 minutes after that. The publicists had a conversation with the women about how to proceed, and they decided together to do nothing—no statement, no new photographs. Piper needed to get in touch with Larry before someone else beat her to the punch.

"Would you like some privacy?" Blair asked.

The blonde reached for her lover's hand. "I want Alex with me."

"Ok, Kennedy and I will wait in the kitchen."

Alex gently pushed Piper's blonde hair off her shoulder. "This isn't going to be easy."

"No, it's not." She could feel her pulse rising rapidly as she looked at her phone, and then pressed the button to call her fiancé.

"Hey, Pipes. I'm nursing a pretty lousy hangover."

Alex could hear both ends of the conversation.

The blonde lowered her head. "Larry, I need to tell you something that's going to upset you."

"What is it?"

She put her hand on her chest and could feel her heart pounding. "I don't know how to say it."

"Just spit it out, Piper."

"I can't marry you." Piper took a deep, shaky breath, lifting her eyes to focus on Alex. "I am so, _so_ sorry…I'm not in love with you the way I once was."

At first, silence rang between them. "Where is this coming from? Is it because of _her_?"

She felt tears prickle her eyes as Alex mouthed, " _Be strong_."

"I didn't think this was going to happen, I swear," Piper began, running a hand through her hair. "It's just…I never intended to fall in love with Alex again, but it just… _happened_."

"You _love_ her?" he asked in a high pitched tone. "How could you do this to me? To us?"

"I never set out to…"

"You never got over her in the first place! I _knew_ it!" he interrupted. "I don't know why I'm acting so surprised, really. You fucked me over just like I knew you would."

Tears fell down the blonde's cheeks, and Alex wiped them with the side of her hand.

"I am truly sorry, Larry." She sniffed as her heart felt torn in two. "I loved you. I _love_ you, just differently."

"Go back to your fucked up life with that _addict_ lesbian, and get the hell out of my house," he spat back. "There better be no trace of you when I get home tomorrow."

"I'm _so_ sorry, Larry." This was killing her. She turned her back to Alex, needing this last part to be done in semi-privacy. "There's something else…" She paused, shutting her eyes. "Alex and I met at a bar a month ago, and someone took a picture of us. It was leaked online this morning."

"Are you kidding?"

"It's not of us kissing or anything…" She tried futilely to hold back tears.

"Stop! Just stop talking, Piper," he roared.

"I didn't want you to be blindsided by it and…and I should've told you sooner." She sniffed again, wiping her wet cheeks.

"Is there anything else you forgot to share?"

"No," she whispered, a fresh set of sobs tumbling out of her throat. Piper felt her lover's hand on her shoulder, so she turned to face her again, needing to see _love_.

"I should've never trusted you," Larry said. "Get the fuck out of my house and don't _ever_ call me again, you fucking whore!"

Piper collapsed into Alex's arms, crying like a baby. She heard comforting words and sounds and felt Alex's gentle caress on her back, but nothing could soothe her for minutes after the call.

Blair and Kennedy walked back into the room a few minutes later. "That couldn't have been easy."

She lifted her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It fucking sucked!"

Blair hugged her. "I know."

"Is there anything I can do?" Kennedy asked.

"He wants me out of here." Piper sniffed. "Can you guys help me pack my stuff?"

"Of course," Kennedy replied.

"Want me to call Polly?" Blair asked.

"Yeah, thank you." She nodded. "If I just keep busy, I can do this."

For the next three hours, they all helped Piper pack her clothing and personal items in plastic bags and the few boxes she had lying around. The blonde remained silent most of the time, feeling like her heart had just been smashed to pieces, but trying to remind herself that she _had to_ break up with Larry if she wanted any chance with Alex. Still, it felt like someone was physically sitting on her chest as she packed her things, not 100 percent prepared to leave the place she'd called home for the past couple of years, but certainly ready to leave the man.

Piper could feel Alex's eyes on her while they packed, but the brunette didn't ask how she was doing—it was clear that Piper was in a world of hurt. She touched Piper on the arm or the shoulder every once in a while, which comforted the blonde more than she thought it might. There was a moment about an hour into packing when Piper stopped moving just to watch her lover. She could tell that Alex was trying to keep her own emotions in check while she worked around photos of Piper and Larry strewn about the house. That couldn't have been easy for the dark haired woman, but Alex showed no signs of weakness—she was all business with the occasional compassionate glance that she'd flash Piper every few minutes.

Polly and Pete showed up about halfway into the move and offered their assistance.

Polly hadn't expected Alex to be there, so she was caught off guard. "Alex."

"Polly, hi." Alex extended her hand.

"Welcome back into my best friend's life." Polly shook her hand, and then folded her arms.

Piper gave her friend a sharp look, silently hoping that Polly would tread lightly.

"It won't be like last time. I promise," Alex stated firmly.

The other woman took a step closer. "It better not be."

"Holy fu…" Pete approached the brunette. "Uh, you must be Alex. I mean, I know you're Alex. I've seen your picture and the interviews and…Wow. You're um, you're quite…attractive."

"Get it together, Pete," the blonde said, handing him a heavy box.

Alex smirked. "I take it you're Pete, as in the other half of Polly."

"I am." He shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. If you need anything at all, you know, support, a drink, a hug…"

Polly rolled her eyes. "Honey, you're babbling. Take these to the car." She stacked two bags on top of the box he was already holding.

"Right." Pete tried to balance the awkward load. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you, Alex."

"You bet." She opened the door for him.

By 4 o'clock, the majority of Piper's stuff sat on the living room floor or was in Polly's car. The blonde was grateful for their assistance, but this had already proven to be a gut-wrenching and somewhat embarrassing experience.

"I'm so tired of having to watch my every move," Piper commented with exhaustion. "I just want my life to be normal." (She never, ever thought she'd want _that_.)

"That's going to take some time," Blair commented.

"I don't understand—I'm not a fucking celebrity!"

"You wrote a book that's been on _The New York Times_ Best Seller's List for the past six months," Blair began. "You're smart, beautiful, talented and happen to be bisexual, which is very avant garde right now."

Piper rolled her eyes.

"And you also happen to have fallen back in love with the gorgeous lesbian felon who got you into this mess in the first place," Kennedy finished for Blair. "It's the perfect recipe for the public to be intrigued and the media to latch on to."

"Who said I was in love?" Piper asked.

Alex creased her forehead as the blonde slowly lifted her head with a small smile in place. It was the first time she'd smiled since her conversation with Larry.

Alex threw a balled up scarf at her. "Asshole."

Piper stood and reached for her lover, who wrapped her arms around Piper's body, placing a long kiss on the top of her blonde head.

"I _am_ in love," she whispered with her head on Alex's chest.

Blair drove with Piper to Polly and Pete's brownstone, talking out possible scenarios with her. The publicist strongly advised Piper to keep her distance from Alex for the near future if she didn't want any more media fallout.

"This isn't a game. I'm not going to fuck with my boyfriend—my _ex-_ boyfriend's—life," she sighed.

* * *

The photograph of Alex and Piper appeared in People magazine that week, which meant that the couple had to lay low for another week. Piper was not at all pleased at the attention and actually had a few smarmy photographers follow her around for two days. There was no way she'd go near Alex for the time being. The blonde had no interest in rubbing her relationship with Alex in Larry's face, and it was just too soon to 'come out' with Alex.

The lovers talked on the phone several times a day for the first two weeks and texted each other incessantly. At one point, Piper thought, fuck it, and attempted to go to Alex's apartment on a Thursday morning. Her plan was foiled when three people asked for her autograph as she got out of the Subway terminal. There was simply no way around it at the time, and it maddened both women to no end.

Piper had written two letters to Larry, one each week, trying to explain her actions and apologize, but he never reached out to her. She wanted to respect his wishes by not calling or texting him, and she wondered if that was the way it would ultimately end. It would've been nice to have a less emotionally draining break, but she had no one to blame but herself.

Unfortunately, Blair learned that Larry agreed to appear on _Good Day L.A._ to reveal his thoughts about his former fiancé and her lover. Blair encouraged Piper to do an interview of her own (or with Alex) to set the record straight, but the blonde didn't think that was a good idea. Piper wanted to allow Larry to have the spotlight and perhaps even the last word—maybe that would help him heal.

Through a rather sneaky scheme that Blair and Kennedy helped coordinate, Piper was able to go to Alex's apartment to watch Larry's interview that would appear online that afternoon.

"I've missed you." Piper hugged her, and then pulled back for a kiss.

"Me, too."

The women had yet to have sex, and it was damn near killing both of them, but Piper wanted to be in the right frame of mind before she gave herself to Alex. The brunette didn't complain—at least not with any meat behind it. She wanted Piper _the right way_ this time around.

"Ready to watch it?" Alex asked, pulling her over to the sofa.

"I've never been to your place." She looked around the small space. "It's nice."

"I can afford to get something bigger now," Alex said, brushing her hair back. "But I wanted to wait to see if you wanted to move in together, you know, eventually."

The blonde smiled and linked both hands with Alex's. "Yes, I want that."

"Good." She leaned forward to place a kiss on Piper's forehead. "We just have to decide when."

"I hate that it can't be tomorrow."

"It _can_ be," Alex offered, sitting down and tugging the blonde onto her lap. "But I don't think that's what you want."

"Maybe after I watch Larry's interview, it will be."

The dark haired woman reached around Piper to pull up the video, and Piper settled more fully on her lap, one arm around Alex's neck.

Larry said everything in the video that Piper expected—that she was a cheater, a liar, and hungry for money. He accused Piper of being in love with Alex all along, which the blonde actually didn't mind. When she and Alex were finally out to the world, it would make their relationship that much more endearing.

Although Larry's words stung, he had every right to be pissed, and she couldn't blame him for tossing around words like "unfaithful wench." Her heart sank as she listened to her ex-fiancé rattle off hostile statements, but Piper knew his wrath and name-calling wouldn't play well in the media. Sure, there would be a few people who sided with Larry, but the ones who watched _Good Day L.A._ were mostly the same folks who bought _US Weekly_ and _People_ —they loved a great story with scandal and romance. They were also the people who'd been rooting for _Vauseman_ since the memoir's release.

Blair called as the interview wrapped up and said that the initial numbers were fairly low for viewership, but she would monitor things over the next 48 hours as people found the segment online. The publicist confirmed the fact that Larry 'didn't look good,' and would likely not get the kind of sympathy he so desperately craved.

"I'm going to spend the night with Alex," Piper said into the phone, eyes trained on her lover.

"You know what my response to that is going to be," Blair complained.

"Larry basically called me a lying whore on television," the blonde replied. "I want to be with my girlfriend in the aftermath of that. Nothing you say is going to change my mind."

"You're the boss of you," Blair said. "Give me an hour's notice when you're ready to leave."

"I will. Thank you, Blair."

She hung up and tossed her phone to the side.

Alex shut the laptop. "Glad that's over?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her temples. "But it still sucks."

"You loved him." Alex smoothed her hand down her lover's back. "Of course, it sucks." She paused before continuing. "Do you want to go on record to contest what Larry said?"

The blonde glanced at her somewhat sheepishly. "Everything he said is true, except that I was in it for the money, so no, I don't want to do another interview and get into a war of words with him."

She toyed with the tips of Piper's hair. "I'd think people would be sick of us by now."

"I know, right?" Piper wrapped her arms around her lover. "Take me out next week in the middle of Manhattan. If someone takes a picture or a video, I don't care. I'm ready to live my life without being worried someone will catch us."

"No statement beforehand?" Alex kissed the top of her head.

"No." She shook her head against Alex's chest, and then looked up. "Once we're out, living our lives, people are going to care that we're a couple for like a day or two, and then it'll die down. I'm willing to put ourselves out there if you are."

Alex smiled tenderly. "I am."

"There's something else I don't want to wait to do any longer." The blonde wiggled her eyebrows.

"Prove to me that you are, in fact, the gangster of love?" Alex chuckled, as she placed her hands under Piper's sweatshirt.

"If anyone's a _gangster_ , it's you." Piper kissed a trail across her lover's cheek and down her neck. She lifted Alex's shirt, and the brunette shrugged out of it.

"I _did_ serve more time than you," Alex replied with a head tilt as if she was really contemplating who the bigger gangster was. She ran her fingertips up and down the blonde's back. "So there's that."

Piper reached back to unclasp Alex's black bra, watching her breasts bounce with the motion. She immediately sucked a nipple into her mouth.

"Mmm, that feels good."

"They still taste like marzipan."

She felt the brunette chuckle. Alex's hand rested on the back of her head as her eyes fluttered shut. "It's remarkable how familiar this feels."

Piper lifted her head, kissing her lover on the mouth again. "It's like no time has passed."

Their hands began roaming a bit more freely across each other's bodies, and Alex unzipped the blonde's jeans. She didn't snake a hand inside just yet, but Piper arched into her touch. Even if she was given a year to discover every part of Alex's body, Piper didn't think it would be enough—she spent an inordinate amount of time sucking and nipping at the skin just below her lover's ear. When that area seemed to have enough attention, she switched gears entirely and kissed a trail down Alex's arm until her lips landed on the forearm tattoo.

The blonde stopped kissing and looked up, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the ink. "I blame this tattoo for everything."

Alex brushed blonde hair out of Piper's face. "What are you talking about?"

"The first time I saw it was in the Dateline interview, and I couldn't peel my eyes away." She kissed the tattoo several times.

"Why?"

Piper placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "It's distinctly _you_."

She giggled and sucked at the base of Piper's neck. "Like spots on a leopard?"

"Not that I'd ever compare you to a member of the cat family…well, maybe a panther, but yeah." The blonde tilted her head, allowing more skin for Alex to kiss. She reached out to pinch one of the brunette's nipples and was rewarded with a moan.

"I'm not going to last very long, babe."

"Neither am I." She leaned down to capture the other nipple with her mouth, but before she could spend enough time on it, Alex pulled away and lifted Piper's shirt over her head.

The brunette gently pushed her lover down until her back was flat against the cushions as she bathed Piper's body with wet kisses. The blonde curved into her touch, and Alex snaked one hand into her underwear.

"God, Alex." She arched her back again. "That's…right there."

Alex resumed her assault on Piper's mouth, and the blonde's hands rested on her lover's cheeks. Piper stopped kissing her and stared into her eyes. "I wanted this to happen at the right time."

Alex halted her hand movement inside Piper's underwear. "Is this not the right time?"

"No, it is…It is." Piper smiled affectionately up at her, tracing Alex's full lips with her fingertip. "I just wanted you to know."

Alex smirked. "Show, don't tell." She tugged the blonde's jeans off, followed by her underwear, and then dove face first between Piper's legs.

Five licks, and Piper was gone. "Fuck! Alex, I'm cuming, I'm cuming, I'm cuming!"

She didn't let up until she was confident that Piper was fully satisfied.

"You're still really bad at that," she panted.

The dark haired woman wiped her mouth on her arm and chuckled. "You taste the same."

"Is that a good thing?" She gathered Alex's hair out of her face.

"Are you fucking kidding?" She let out another low laugh. "It's an amazing thing."

"My turn to do you." Piper flipped them over until Alex was beneath her and Piper could straddle her thighs with her own. "But I'm going to go much slower."

"While I'm sure foreplay would be hot and all, I'm going to ask for a raincheck." She put her hand on the back of Piper's neck, pulling her in for a searing kiss. "I need you to fuck me now."

That was all the encouragement Piper needed to kiss her way down the brunette's body until her head hovered above Alex's center. She kissed it a couple of times before spreading her open and taking two long licks, and then concentrated on her sensitive nub.

"Ah, fuck, Piper!" She held her blonde head in place. "Just like that."

Ten more long licks, and Alex had an orgasm of her own, crying out for Piper and not letting her up for air until she was done. The blonde loved every second of it, lapping up her lover's juices and swallowing the once familiar tang.

They collapsed on the sofa in a ball of satisfied flesh.

"I never knew sex could be that good again," Piper commented, running her fingers through black hair.

"Only with you." Alex kissed her on the cheek. She tightened her grip around the blonde's waist. "This time will be so much different."

Piper lifted her head to look Alex in the eye. "It _will_ be."


	10. Chapter 10

Alex made dinner reservations the following week at Per Se, a restaurant on Piper's bucket list. The couple had cocktails at the bar, and within the first ten minutes, a teenage girl came up to them, asking for a photo op. (She shouldn't have been in that section of the restaurant, but Piper didn't point that out to the girl.)

"You sure about this?" Alex whispered.

"It was bound to happen." Piper tossed her arm over Alex's shoulders and leaned her head against the brunette's. "Let's give them something to talk about."

Alex grabbed Piper's dangling fingertips as the teenager's mother snapped the shot.

"I'm so glad you two are back together." The teen blushed.

The couple was interrupted once more for an autograph by a 20-something woman, and then they were shown to their table. Piper thought she'd be more uncomfortable than she actually was, considering everything that had transpired over the past several months. Larry's interview on _Good Day L.A_. did him no favors as far as the blonde was concerned—all hopes of an eventual friendship went out the door after he aired their dirty laundry on television. All Piper had wanted to do was keep her personal life private, and Larry had thrown a wrench into that.

"You look gorgeous, if I haven't told you already," Alex said, reaching for the blonde's hand across the table.

Piper had on an Anthropologie dress that was fitted white cotton on the top and blush-colored, tulle that flared just a bit on the bottom. Alex, on the other hand, was wearing a black pant suit that she'd had custom made a few weeks ago. Piper had a hard time taking her eyes off of her lover's outfit. There was something so powerful and sexy about the brunette, and it reminded Piper very much of their time together in Europe. She had to tell herself that those days were long gone, because the anxiety that inevitably creeped up when she compared them as a couple _today_ to who they were 12 years ago, would make her question her decision to rekindle the romance.

Piper rubbed the inside of her lover's wrist. "So do you."

"Are you still ok with everything, or are you just 'fake' ok?" Alex brought the blonde's knuckles to her lips.

"I'm fine, really." She used her free hand to brush her hair behind one ear. "I wouldn't want to run into Larry or anything, but I'm good."

The couple ate the seven course dinner together, feeling stares directed at them throughout the meal, but Piper refused to let that distract her time with Alex. For her part, Alex did an excellent job of keeping her distracted with conversation and intimate looks. They were able to act like a normal couple, enjoying a night on the town, and Piper figured it would get easier as the public lost interest in their ordinariness.

When they finished dinner two hours later, the women locked hands and walked down the bustling street to Alex's apartment.

"I think someone is recording us," Alex said, twisting her head around but continuing their pace. She tried to release Piper's hand, but the blonde wouldn't have it.

"No." She tugged Alex's hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing hard. "Let them."

"If you're sure…" Alex grinned.

"The only person who doesn't want us together is Larry. Well, maybe Polly and my parents, but they'll get over it," Piper began, turning the corner. "Everyone else still seems to be rooting for us. Let's allow them to have a glimpse of us as a couple, and their fascination will be over before we know it."

The dark haired woman adjusted her glasses. "Is that what Blair told you?"

"She wants us to make an official statement about being back together, but I'm not comfortable with that." Piper lifted and then kissed the back of Alex's hand. "If Larry goes on another show or does an interview, commenting on the photos or video of the two of us together that will undoubtedly surface on the Internet after this little outing, I'll be able to say that I'm just living my life—simple as that." She shrugged.

"What about the weirdos on the Internet?" Alex let out a soft laugh. " _Team Vauseman_."

Piper let out a snort of her own. "There's no satiating them. Have you read some of those stories?"

"Fuck, no," Alex replied. "That stuff doesn't freak you out?"

"The _concept_ of it didn't, but after reading a couple of them, yeah, it's pretty disturbing." A smile crossed her face. "There was this one called _Liminal Space_ that featured you as a teacher and me as a student."

"And obviously, we fell in love," the brunette commented with an eye roll.

"That's about the size of it."

They walked up the four steps to Alex's building, and while Piper put the key in the door (Alex had made her a set of keys the week before), Alex leaned over, moving blonde hair to the side and placing a few kisses on her neck. "Wanna role play?"

"What are you doing?" Piper giggled, squirming away.

"I'm the teacher, kissing my student," she whispered, nipping at the skin just below her ear.

"Ew, that's disgusting!" The blonde opened the door and drug her inside.

"If we _were_ to role play, what would we do?" Alex put her hands on Piper's hips and resumed kissing her neck.

"Maybe you'd be a bad ass art thief or something." She tilted her head, giving Alex more flesh to kiss.

The dark haired woman pulled back. "Then I'd go to prison. No, thanks."

"How about this..." Piper put her hands flat on Alex's chest. "You're this hypnotizingly beautiful ex-con, and I'm this wicked talented writer, who also happens to be a former prisoner."

Alex laughed and kissed her firmly on the mouth. "I like it."

The women didn't make it to the bed before stripping down to nothing and going at it right there on the living room floor.

* * *

The very next day, a video of Alex and Piper surfaced on TMZ, and Blair was on the phone with Piper minutes after it hit the Web. The blonde still showed no remorse for their actions, and Blair had to commend her client on being true to herself. Still, there was "stuff" to clean up, but Piper still paid her publicist handsomely to do exactly that.

"There's something else in the works that I should have an update on by the end of the day," Blair said.

"Will I like it?" She batted Alex's hands off of her breasts.

"I don't know, but I'm not spilling the beans before it's a sure thing."

"Fine." She had to physically remove herself from Alex's naked body and turn completely away from her voluptuous breasts to concentrate on the call. "Alex and I are going apartment hunting today."

"You two only know one speed, and that's full steam ahead." She pictured Blair rolling her eyes.

"We have 12 years to make up for," the blonde replied, turning around to watch Alex slip on a blue Human Rights Campaign t-shirt.

"Good luck finding a place. I'll be in touch later this afternoon." Blair hung up.

"What was that about?" Alex opened her laptop and typed in TMZ.

"I don't know." Piper scratched her head. "She was rather cryptic, but something else is in the works…whatever that means."

The women watched the 60 second clip, and as expected, it was of the two of them walking back from the restaurant and playfully kissing on the stoop.

"We're cute," Piper commented, chin resting on her lover's shoulder.

"We are." She twisted her head and kissed whatever part of Piper's body her lips landed on, which happened to be her jawline.

The women had appointments to see three apartments that day, and the last one they saw on the Upper Westside was by far the most desirable. The only problem was that rent was $1,000 more per month than the other two. Piper insisted that they develop a list of pros and cons about each unit, but Alex saw no purpose in that activity due to the one major con with the unit they loved: the cost.

The blonde had made more money on the sales of her memoir than she ever anticipated and offered to pay as much of the rent as she needed for them to live comfortably, but Alex wouldn't budge on being equal contributors. She was still doing some freelance work with the Human Rights Campaign, but unless she moved to DC, it would be nothing more than supplemental income. The Vice President of Programs at GLAAD was gunning for Alex to join their team, but the brunette hadn't had an official interview yet. If she were to be hired full time by GLAAD, that would surely allow her to pay her share of the rent without a problem.

Blair texted Piper on their way back from the viewings, asking if she could meet with her and Alex to share some exciting news. _This can't wait_ , the publicist wrote.

Although Alex's apartment was indeed tiny, it was suitable enough for a meeting with Blair.

"Hi, Piper." Blair kissed her on the cheek. "Alex." She nodded her hello to the brunette.

"What's going on?" Piper motioned for Blair to sit in an armchair, while she joined Alex on the sofa.

"I'll just cut to the chase. An executive at Netflix contacted me a few weeks ago, and we've been in constant communication ever since." Blair's eyes darted between the women until landing on the blonde. "Piper, they want to turn your book into a series."

Both women's eyes shot open wide and they said in unison, "No fucking way."

The End

* * *

Thank you very much for reading this little story and all of the wonderful reviews!


End file.
